Pick Your Poison
by GameJunkie7
Summary: Andrew Ruebs just wanted stability. For himself, his mother. Something that, in a city like Brockton Bay, is incredibly hard to come by. A violent gang altercation results in this becoming impossible. Forever changed, Andrew suddenly has the power to bring some semblance of stability, if not for himself, then for the city at large. It's time for the Bay to Pick It's Poison...
1. Chapter 1

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Catalyst 1.1**_

The bell rang, and with it came the varied forms of praise from the captives of the so-called teaching establishment Winslow High School. You won't be hearing that sort of praise from me.

Not that I like it here, god no, forbid the thought. It's just I prefer to be dead bored than utterly miserable.

I stood with a sigh from my too-small desk, smoothing my ratty old green 'Beer Me' Saint Patty's Day shirt to make sure it actually went below the waistband of my too-tight blue jeans. I swear I'll lose all this weight someday.

"Andrew, don't forget to actually do the homework assignment this time." I winced at being called out by Mr. Gladly, I swear I must be one of the few students he actually tries to teach for whatever reason.

"Yeah, sure. Got it Mr. G." I replied without any sincerity, because seriously, I have far more important things to do than write some stupid essay over the weekend. Regardless of how much I'd rather actually do the homework instead.

After I managed to squeeze through the crowd of gaggling students like a too-large round peg in a square hole, I made my way to my locker to drop my stuff off. On the way there, I moved to avoid what looked like yet another cruel verbal gang-up on that poor girl Taylor. I always felt so terrible just letting them torment her. We used to know each other when we were younger since our fathers were friends, but after dad died, we just naturally drifted apart. Didn't change the fact that it made me feel like even more of a total sack of crap for not even trying to help her.

It's not like I can even do anything, maybe get suspended if I kick Hess in the ass and run off? Who am I kidding? She's the track team star and she'd run me down faster than a motorbike.

I reached my locker, whacked it a few times to open the rusty thing, dang thing was jammed more often than not and I didn't bother with a lock. I tossed my whole backpack into the locker, using the cracked mirror I hung inside to vainly check if my long red hair was presentable, one of the few features I was proud of besides my green eyes. I was the lucky ginger who somehow avoided freckles, I thank mom's genes for that...and dad's genes for me still not having any peach fuzz at all.

"C'mon man, get a move on." An excessively baggy-clothed student hissed into my ear urgently, and I quickly breathed out a dejected sigh of resignation, slamming my locker shut and following the shorter guy who I never bothered to get to know. The fact he was considered average in height made my 6 foot height feel excessive as we waded through the crowds, across the campus from the busses, and towards a small service road that ran behind Winslow's gym and the backs of some small apartment buildings.

I didn't bother to speak as the scrawny dude walked forwards with his hands held out, as if feeling for a wall in the dark, and soon he came in contact with something unseen. He ran his hands over it until he found the handle and opened an invisible sliding van door, revealing the inside of a junker converted to a mini-bus, loaded to the brim with people of varied ages and races from our own age to upper-middle age. Of course, they were all wearing baggy and ratty clothes as well, some trying to have some light blue on them somewhere.

"Get in, we're almost late for the start of the shift." One of the men said grumpily. Not much of a surprise, considering the man had clearly lost some of his teeth to drug abuse. I climbed in casually, used to this sort of scenario after months of working with the Archer's Bridge Merchants, having been gang-pressed into the gang to resolve my mom's massive meth debt.

The door closed once the scrawny guy got in after me, and the driver began to move the invisible van with a familiarity that was both reassuring yet disturbing. "So what's the quota today?" I asked one of the gangers, who held up a cheap burner phone to look at something.

"About 10 pounds. We're low on supplies so Skidmark doesn't expect more than that today." What the thug didn't bother mentioning was that we were just one of many Merchant drug labs, and that the rest of the actual quota would be met regardless, we were just padding.

"10 Pounds?" I asked incredulously, getting grunts of agreement from my statement. "Even on a good day we can barely crank that much out." Our little meth lab wasn't very big, or well stocked, or equipped. We were lucky we had electric stoves and hotplates along with cheap general store measuring cups and coffee mugs, not to mention using cookie sheets for the crystallization process.

"What can I say? We gotta supply the dealers, they sell the product, and we get paid. Can't really afford to complain can we?" The oddly lucid man replied. He never told me his name, but I guess when you're in this sort of business, going without was better anyway.

"Yeah, whatever." I groaned as I leaned back into my seat, trying to ignore the windows since knowing I could see out of them, but nobody could see us at all always unnerved me. I sulked quietly, bracing myself to once again create more poison, to hurt more people, like my mother, just to keep her from being turned into a drug whore.

Soon enough, since Winslow was the last pickup for this rather unique vanpool, we reached the back alley of the lab which was situated on the edge of what the Merchants considered their territory, and where the Azn Bad Boys considered the start of their territory, even if the ABB said it all was theirs straight to the end of the Docks. This pretty much split the Slums of north Brockton Bay in half into what was loosely considered by the gangs and law enforcement to be the East and West slums, which got worse the further east you went, and therefore closer to the Docks and the Boat Graveyard, so the ABB were content to more-or-less leave the Merchants be, considering the area not profitable enough to do more than hassle them occasionally.

I got out last since my fat 333 pound butt was always made to sit alone in the back seat, in total about 10 of us got out, the driver staying in his seat to take the van back to one of Squealer's many motor pools for maintenance. I watched the sliding side door close and the invisible van to once more completely disappear from all senses. To think Skidmark has Squealer make so many of those, yet he never uses them as anything more than troop or cargo transport, idiot.

"Fatty, c'mon, you're on crystal cutting duty today." One of the thugs who man the place on a semi-permanent basis said as he was holding the back door, and I almost cheered up at hearing that. The chopping and drying portion of the meth recipe was the easiest and was almost fun. I was half on chop duty and half on measuring duty because since they knew I despised drugs, they also knew I wouldn't skim, or taste. "And don't forget the blanket this time."

Oh yeah, right, the so-called hazmat suit that some wiseguy made from liquid-proof bed sheets, rubber cleaning gloves, and a swimming mask with snorkel. Lovely. After one of the guys passed out from inhaling too much meth dust on chop duty, one of the overseers decided to jokingly make whoever was chopping wear the hot, sweaty, and heavy thing, since the poor schmuck had also been getting it in his system from skin contact over a long period of time.

Sorta like what happens when you make lemon bars, and you have to use your bare hands on the dough, the sugar sinks into your skin, gives you shakes, only meth is of course infinitely worse. I've gotta stop baking treats when I'm home….

I enter the lab, head to the chopping station up on the fourth floor of the butchered and nearly skeletal apartment building, and switched off with the guy who was doing it for the previous shift. If they're pulling multiple shifts, then Skidmark's looking to have a dump site set up somewhere, probably to stock up so the crew can get more ingredients together. When I asked the man I was relieving on the progress, he said they already had 4 pounds of dried crystal meth done, meaning the cooks wouldn't have to worry about not hitting quota before midnight.

That's good, I hate when Skidmark gets irritated. At least when he's pissed you know what he's going to do, irritated? That's a shot in the dark.

I donned the disgusting and residue-caked hazmat 'suit' and continued where the previous guy left off, chopping and drying the crystals continuously, as whoever was cooking had a batch coming down the hall for me to get to work on already. I got lost in it like I usually do, humming, dancing a bit. I hate what I'm doing on principal, but I have to cope somehow. It doesn't help that I'm a twitchy 14 year old with ADHD that can't afford to medicate, at least the tedium of this job was-.

"Fuck! FUCK! Everybody get out!" I heard echo up from downstairs, interrupting my haze of busywork, only to flinch and freeze at the sound of gunfire, and shattering glass from downstairs, something exploded shortly after, knocking me to my knees and making me drop my knife.

"Oh god…."

"ABB! Molotovs!" Someone screamed through the gunfire and shattering glass, and I bolted to my feet, my heart hammering in my ears as I fought down my panic.

Okay, okay. Calm down. Take off the suit, not only is it heavy it's highly flammable. Get to the back entrance, and duck into the storm drain system-when did it start raining?! I mentally screamed in horror at the sight of the sudden downpour, at least sudden to me, I knew it was going to rain but I didn't think it was going to be this much! I can barely see out the window, the storm drains will be absolutely flooded-!

Another explosion, the building rocked as I shucked off the suit as quick as possible. The ABB have lit the lab on fire. Meth lab, plus fire, equals death. I have to get out of here.

Through the rumbling of both the rapidly failing structure I was in, and the downpour of the rain that now came through to the forefront of my attention, I heard the gunfire petering out and moving away as I quickly sprinted down the stairwell to the third floor, where the cooking was done, and it was an inferno. I had to duck back into the stairwell in a panic, there was too much smoke and fire for me to just run through to the stairs on the other side.

A screech of tires told me someone just booked it out of here as I looked out the stairwell window, which was always jammed shut, but had a fire escape in the odd location thanks to how old the design of the apartment building was. I smashed the window with my worn boot. "Gah!" I grunted as a shard of glass cut through my jeans and into my right leg, making me hiss before I still used my injured leg to kick out more of the-

The fourth floor collapsed behind me, sending rubble, smoke, and more fire up the stairwell at me, practically searing my skin and choking me as I desperately broke more of the window to squeeze my fat ass through onto the rickety and ancient wrought iron fire escape.

I made a mistake.

The old thing, likely never having even been maintained since it was first installed, instantly began snapping from it's worn and weak mounts the moment my heavy mass jolted it. The top mounts snapped, the rusted bolts giving and the metal stairwell starting to screech as it bent away from the building.

I must've been high on adrenaline right now, because I knew I had never moved this fast before in my sedentary life, practically leaping down the escape to the third floor, which almost followed at the same speed as the fourth with the collapsing infrastructure giving it even less stability, and I practically jumped over the railing to slip backwards off the stairs onto the second floor of the fire escape next to the rusted-stuck drop-ladder. Fucking rain!

I hissed in pain from the back of my head hitting old ironwork and biting cold rain buffeting me, but I had no time to waste, the rest of the escape over me was already falling into the alley, about to drag the last of it and me with it to the ground, and I doubted I would survive who knows how much metal crashing on me.

I bolted to my feet, and ignored the cheap and now burning plywood cover of the second storey window, smashing through it with the full force of my bodyweight mere seconds before the failed emergency exit finished giving out, hitting the building across the alley with a resounding crash as well as to the ground in a deafening clatter of crumpling iron, almost sounding like glass.

"Aaah~!" The fire! It's searing my left arm! I quickly patted the injury from the burning plywood with my wet shirt and hand, before dashing downstairs. I instinctively bolted for the front door, even though there were some bodies of my dead 'coworkers' laying around with the fire spreading down here too. "No-no-no-no!" I screamed as the ceiling caved in over the door, and I skidded to a stop, about-facing to run out the back, and almost made it into the hallway leading to the back door before a gas line must've ruptured, igniting an explosion from upstairs and carried down the stairwell I had just came down from, blocking the whole hall with more fire, knocking me back from the concussive force and singeing me, drying my clothes some and practically evaporating the loose water on me.

I stared in horror, and disbelief, backing away into a bathroom that had been used to store ingredients, I futilely tried to turn on all the faucets, if I drench myself again I might be able to just run through the flames, but nothing came out besides an ancient groan and a rusty spittle, and I slowly sank to the floor.

This was it...wasn't it? I'm going to die here….

I sniffled, about to cry, starting to hyperventilate even though I knew I had to preserve as much oxygen as I could in any vain hope some firefighters or even Heroes might save me, but what then? I go to jail? Juvie? My life ruined before I can finish helping my mom?

Oh god my mom….

She'll be made a drug whore, I'm all she's got left! I can't die here! I can't! I've gotta-!

...What just happened? The last thing I remember was panicking, now I'm staring at the ceiling when I was sitting just a moment ago. I blinked, then coughed, the smoke was worse, the fire was getting closer. Oddly, I was calm. Not accepting this situation, no, not that, but I just couldn't...I can't explain it. I also can't explain this crazy idea I just got in my head.

I bolt to my feet, grabbed a bag of untreated marijuana from the linen closet of the bathroom, likely the stash of one of my now deceased comrades, a washcloth, some of the dirty spittle that had come from the sink from my attempt at getting water earlier, some of my snot, and a scraping of belly-button lint. I had no idea why, but I just...knew this would work.

I got the cloth as wet as I could with the faint damp from my clothes, mixed in the snot, lint, rusty discharge, and vigorously rubbed a marijuana stem into the disgusting mixture on the cloth, breathing onto it to keep it as humid as possible, until I had to back away and take a deep breath, then hold it.

I held up the stained cloth towards the door, and strode out into the fire, to see it rapidly snuff out when it got too close to me.

The bacteria from my belly button, rapidly mated with other bacteria and a stable plant culture had provided an unusually potent specimen that rapidly exchanged oxygen with carbon dioxide at a proliferant rate. However, this meant I couldn't breathe. I was starting to see darkness creep into my vision as my air-stealing concoction cleared the back door, and I moved out into the rain, letting the cloth drop and I let go of my breath before gasping in air as the water diluted the bacteria to manageable levels.

What did I just do? How did I do that? This makes no sense, except it does. I understand the process and how to repeat it, but such a recipe for something like that is complete and utter bullsh-. "Freeze!"

I bolted at the order, dashing for the purposely damaged and larger storm drain of the back alley, ducking behind the wreckage of the fire escape at the sound of gunfire while still moving, before I dove into a sideways roll, slipping my fat body through the large gap as I took another deep breath, holding my nose shut and closing my eyes, being submerged in a river-rapid that was so bitingly cold and fast I almost reflexively tried to gasp for air, but I sternly refused to let a bodily reaction get me killed after surviving so far.

I grunted and shivered in pain as I impacted walls, was dragged along smooth concrete so fast I could practically feel my skin being flayed open by the friction in spite of all the water, and just when I thought I was going to black out, I was spat out into a shifting, but mostly stable source of water. I swam up to the surface, gasping for more air when I breached it. My teeth chattered as hypothermia started to set in from the cold American north-east Atlantic waters being just that much colder since it was mid-October.

I shivered as I numbly forced myself to swim the short distance to a ladder on the side of the pier closest to me. Looks like the storm drain system spat me out over a mile and some distance east into the bay next to the Market district. I'm surprised I held my breath that long, but then again I always loved swimming, training my lung capacity really worked out for me in this case.

I'm cold, I'm in pain, but thankfully despite my adrenaline bleeding off, the numbness of the cold helped me ignore most of the pain of my injuries. However it was still raining like god turned over the mother of all buckets in the sky, and my house was definitely way too far to reach.

Great...looks like I'm reporting to Skidmark in person then, since his current hideout is barely a few streets over from here….


	2. Chapter 2

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Catalyst 1.2**_

[Friday, October 15, 2010]

The trudge here wasn't too hard. Sure, I was tired, coming down from an adrenaline high, suffering from a slight case of hypothermia and several injuries of varied severity, but the guy at the door let me in quickly enough when I told him the lab on 12th street was just blown up, and I had no clue who else might've survived, if at all. The ABB tended to be thorough.

I was shortly after slumped prone onto a ratty and disgusting couch, not caring save I kept my right leg, left forearm, and my back from touching it to try and avoid infection. The burn on my arm thankfully won't take too long to heal thanks to the brisk cold water I was submerged in being applied so thoroughly not too long after the injury. The shallow gash in my calf from kicking out the window was going to sting for ages though. Then I had no clue how much skin was flayed from my back by the storm drain system's walls, but the look one of Skidmark's mooks was giving me indicated it wasn't pretty.

"So you're the lucky shitstain that made it out of a fucking meth lab explosion?" Came the grating and annoying voice of the one man I possibly hated, yet tolerated more than anyone I've ever met.

"Yes Skidmark. I survived an exploding meth lab." I drawled blandly, and the jackass laughed, clearly if he was in a good mood over this, he was high as a kite. Damn irresponsible monster.

"Well fuck! You look like total shit! If this was some blood-test shit, I'd say you made chops!" He started laughing, the asshole. I know he doesn't have any empathy for anyone other than himself, but couldn't he take this seriously at least for a minute? "Well! I'd say you've earned some time off! Get your ass some sleep." Skidmark started cackling again, and I could imagine his pistachio-shell teeth with disgust, since I'd kept still even when he was addressing me. That asshole had none of my respect, and if I could get away with disrespecting the buttmonkey, then I would do it.

"Shit guy, you look like you were in a brawl with a Cape." The mook finally spoke up after Skidmark had left. He was very clearly Native American, specifically Mohican. He had little muscle to his wiry frame, something his baggy clothes and his oversized faded blue coat tried to inflate, and his sallow eyes also hinted at his drug problem, but he was clearly not as bad as a good number of the Merchants wound up, which explained why he was at Skidmark's front door. Selfish jackass hoarded anybody with any level of reliability.

Which might include me now if he remembers anything once he comes down from his high. Just. Swell. "Might as well have been. It was just one frantic desperate moment to the next." I blandly replied, having already told the guy the story while waiting for Skidmark to show up and confirm the news, which his mooks will have to remind him about once he's back from cloud nine.

"Dude, I can get you being tired, but what's with the voice?" The man asked, getting me to blearily lift my head to look at him, and he looked disturbed. "Why do you still have that face?"

"What face?" I asked bemusedly.

"That! You're not showing any expressions besides complete...uh...word, what's the word? Uh...neutrality." He tried to explain, and it brought to my attention a rather startling fact, at least, within reason.

I can't feel anything.

Not physically, but emotionally. I didn't notice until it was brought up, but even in moments of stress since my breakdown in that bathroom, the most I've felt is disbelief, irritation, and spite. But even then they were just flashes, little instants, then I was back to an analytical calm. "Maybe it's just shock?" I asked, noticing that I was still speaking deadpan, like I was some sort of emotionless machine. The most inflection I had in my voice was the questioning tone. Closest I could compare it to was this female character from an Earth Aleph import cartoon. Rave something.

"Dude, I've seen shock from addicts coming down hard. Might be different kinds of shock, but this doesn't seem right." The guy considered as he sat in the torn up recliner of the elevated warehouse office room I'd been moved to. "Regardless, you get your sleep man. I'll keep an eye on ya."

"Thanks...what's your name?" I asked curiously. I'd been comfortable going without hearing or giving names for months, but I liked this guy, he seemed more human than most of these scumbags.

"Rahj. I know, not a Mohican name. Blame ma. Pa was Mohican, she was Indian." Rahj smirked, and I...didn't laugh. "Damn it. That usually gets some chuckles."

"Sorry...I don't know what's wrong with me." What the hell? That was hilarious. Why didn't I even crack a smile? Whatever this is, I hope it passes soon. I ignored the stenches around me, the quiet warehouse only ruined by Skidmark laughing his buttmonkey ass off somewhere now and then as I closed my eyes, letting the exhaustion of the day take me.

[Saturday, October 16, 2010]

I woke up, aching, stinging. Hello injuries and yet still no painkillers to help with you. I intellectually loathe you. "Hey, he awakes." I hear a new voice comment, and I groggily turn my head to where Rahj had been sitting, to instead see a scrawnier Asian man in the chair, wearing a similar outfit as Rahj. "I'm the minder that swapped with Rahj so he could sleep." The new man said, reaching into one of his many, many pockets and taking out a bottle of pills, making me wary. "Got some extra strength Ibuprofen here."

"Is that street slang, or literal." I blandly demanded, and the guy held out the bottle as he got up and showed me the label. It was old, but the bottle still had it's original labeling. "Show me." I said, and the guy snorted and rolled his eyes before popping the cap and putting two of the tan tabs in his hand. "I'll take four." I can tell they're Ibuprofen like he said, their chemical composition and production stamps are too complicated for any standard garage drug brewer to...where is this coming from?

"Sure, sure. Just let me shove them in your mouth without water or something." The man snarked, moving to a cooler next to the recliner, and taking out a warm bottle of water.

"Sorry. Can't be too careful about drugs when it comes to us." I replied, getting a noncommittal shrug from my latest companion. He seemed even better off than Rahj honestly, aside from how pale he was, lacking his ethnicity's trademark healthy glow. Hopefully whatever he was on wasn't causing anemia or other blood loss.

"I hear ya. Now here, I don't think you can take it laying down like that." He said as he moved a hand under my right armpit to help me up, and I hissed as I carefully struggled through my soreness and exhaustion to a sitting position. I kept slouched forwards to keep my back from touching the couch though, even if it did feel like I split open numerous scabs from doing so, making me grunt in pain. "Ah, shit. I'll go get some bandages." He said before I took the pills and tossed them in my mouth, swallowing them with a mouthful of water.

"Bring some rubbing alcohol, untreated marijuana, aloe in some form, and a banana." I stated seriously, getting him to look at me in confusion.

"Uh...sure? The alcohol and aloe might be hard though, since they're not exactly-."

"Whiskey or rum if that's easier, and I might be able to make do with any antiseptic cream you have available. Also bring a cup and a stick or something so I can mix the ingredients." Wouldn't work as well, but it would at least act as a binding agent for a short-term paste, and the disinfectant would-where is this Coming from?

"...Shit...shit you Triggered didn't you?" He asked in concern, as if whatever he just said was incredibly serious.

"I'm not angry, I haven't been Triggered." What is he talking about?

"No, seriously? You have no clue what I'm talking about?" The thug asked in shock, and I shook my head. "Guess not every kid your age is into Capes huh?"

Suddenly, just with that hint I understood what he was trying to imply. I had an internal moment of panic and shock, until my all-consuming calm overcame me before it could manifest outwardly. "...Oh...that makes sense…." The fact I made a bacteria that essentially rapidly performs what plants do with exchanging oxygen and carbon dioxide, and is also extremely photosensitive...really? It can't take sunlight, or bright flashes? The fire was ambient enough that it didn't hurt it within the short duration of exposure-.

"Yo! Wake up!" The ganger shouted in my ear, and I blinked a few times to realize I'd completely zoned out. "Jeez, with what you were asking for, and the way you totally left reality for a moment like Squealer does when she get's a new idea or something, you're a Tinker right?"

"Uh...I guess?" I didn't really keep up with the Cape scene. You'd think, that since I worked directly under Capes in a gang, I'd get more involved in understanding things. Really I just read up on their abilities, and left the technicalities since I figured it wouldn't really directly affect me in a way I couldn't even bother managing if it came down to it. Guess this is life telling me to wake up.

"Can you build things?" He asked simply, and I shook my head.

"No. But I can create exotic effects with unusual or otherwise unexpected resources. I made an air-eating bacteria out of my snot, belly button lint, rusty water, and marijuana to escape the fire of the lab." I said, and he gawked at me in disbelief, before snorting and shaking his head.

"Bullshit Tinkers...sorry pal, but after I get you bandaged up, I'm gonna have to tell Skids and Squealer about this." The goon informed me, and I shrugged, which made me cringe. "Dude, still, what's with the neutral thing you got going? Aside from pain, you don't emote anything."

"I guess my powers robbed me of my emotions." I said calmly, getting him to shudder. "It's not so bad. I mean...I don't feel sad, depressed, or...anything really. Kinda a blessing, considering happiness isn't something I'm at all familiar with anyway. At least like this, I can't suffer, right?"

"...That is just fucked up...he's just a fucking kid…." The guy whispered in a haunted tone as he hurried out of the room.

Was it something I said?

[Pick Your Poison]

Apparently it was.

"So you're some stone-cold fucker now huh?" Skidmark demanded, clearly no longer on a high, and currently in his usual state of anger-causing withdrawal. Hm...I could do something about that if I had-. "I'm talkin' to you bitch!" Skidmark punched me in the face, on the cheekbone, and I grunted, only being moved slightly by the scrawny pot-bellied twig of a man, and blinked myself aware. "Fuck! You zone out worse than Squeals when she's working on a new rig!"

"Sorry." I calmly replied. Because honestly, this whole zoning-out bit was really annoying. Huh, I can feel things, just...really, really muted. Like they're there, just easy to miss or ignore. "I was just thinking of a way to help with your withdrawal symptoms-."

"Well halle-fucking-lujah! He swears he's some sort of Tinker after all! Squeals! Test this fatass. I'm gonna go see if any boys have gotten more news on the attack on 12th!" Skidmark practically screamed, cursing colorfully as he stomped his way out of Squealer's garage, where I'd been brought by Rahj and his Asian friend after I'd been bandaged up and had whiskey dabbed on my injuries to keep them disinfected.

"Sorry for Skids. After he came down, he's gotten all sorts of pissed about the lab on 12th being blown to shit." Squealer; Skidmark's personal drug whore and possibly the only reason the Merchants were even still operating, is a Tinker who specializes in vehicles. She prefers huge rigs, but she's able to do crazy stuff too, like a pair of bulky powered roller skates she made once, but their size made them unwieldy. "Anyway, got any clue what your specialization is kid?" The extremely indecent woman asked. She was so scantily dressed in an almost see-thru crop top and Daisy-Duke shorts so small she might as well have been naked, even though I physically didn't react, in my head, I was still distracted.

I guess being somewhat emotionless doesn't change the fact that I'm still a red-blooded teenager.

"Hm, not too sure. I created a specialized bacteria that ate air to escape the lab fire, and then after things calmed down, I've had the urge to create concoctions to solve various things. From speeding up my recovery rate, to helping with drug withdrawal." I informed the perversely bodied woman, who hummed as she leaned back in an alluring way against her workbench, that I bet was entirely unintended.

"Sounds to me like you're a chem tinker. They're not uncommon since chemistry crosses over with so many different fields, and even I can dabble a bit so long as it's for my rides." Squealer said as she pointed to her latest private toy; a monster truck that looked like it belonged in some sort of death rally or backwards sort of hyper-gang war, since it had a giant cannon of some sort mounted on the back. "Gotta get fuel, special greases, and other lubricants somewhere."

"Hm...that makes sense. So is my compulsion to make chem-based products just part of a whole? Or is that it? Because so far, the healing paste and system stabilizer are focused on interacting with the living body, but my air-eating bacteria has absolutely nothing to do with that." My reasoning made her nod, before she twitched, gasped, and shook. She quickly scrambled for a drawer, taking out a tiny 'pixie stick' and she bit off the end before snorting it, coughing as I watched her hurt herself.

"Ah-oh fuck. Damn, getting a hit on the edge of coming down sucks." She bemoaned, her skin looking even more pale, and her shuddering worsening for a moment before she seemed to calm down. "Sorry about that. Been trying to lower the doses when Skids isn't around. Lets me think clearer."

"I hear you." Holy crap. I know it's bad, but now I want to help her. Maybe, if I can make something that helps with withdrawal, then can I make something that can even remove the-.

"Yo, yo! Snap out of it!" Squealer ordered with snaps of her fingers in my face, making me shake myself. "Okay, I'm going to put you to task. I need more fuel for my rigs, especially since the vans have been getting so much use lately. I wanna see if you can make it, and then if you do make something, I'll compare it to my own brew. If it's as good or better, then chem tinkering might just be your thing."

"Okay." I said quite simply, and we stared at each other for a moment. "Are we...going to get started?"

"Sorry, I was kinda expecting you to be a bit more hesitant." Squealer admitted, her blue eyes looking a bit bemused.

"No emotions." I reminded her.

"Right, sorry." She said, looking a little sad as she turned to lead me to another part of the workshop.

Why are so many people looking at me like that?

It kinda became a blur once I got into the part of the workshop she was taking me to. I just got...I don't know, into some sort of trance. I didn't hear or notice anyone trying to speak to me until I was physically interrupted by Rahj and his friend pulling me away from the chem lab I was-where was this? This setup wasn't here before was it? This isn't the sort of thing you see in a garage, though it is made from a bunch of gas containers, funnels, and clear plastic tubing, as well as a few paint cans. Is that a press made from a bottle jack and two-by-fours?

"Dude, you've been in here for hours." Rahj declared, getting me to look up at him in confusion. Didn't I just get started?

"What're you talking about?" I asked, looking back into my lab-okay, whoa, a bit fast there. I took notice of the damage. What was clearly once just part of Squealer's motor pool storage was suddenly a small lab not unlike a makeshift meth lab, but clearly there were no drugs being made here.

"Squealer came and got us when you had apparently flown off the handle into your own Tinkering Binge. She couldn't get you to respond, and she came to get us to pull you away." Rahj's friend said. "Oh, and call me Howard." He answered my unasked question for his name after he and Rahj let me go.

"Good to meet you Howard. So what happened while I was in the zone?" I asked, and in response, they pointed out a hole in the wall that led into Squealer's workshop. "What are you pointing at?" I asked, only for Rahj to move up to the hole, and...knock, on an invisible section of wall, that was completely see-thru. If I could've, I would've widened my eyes in my brief moment of shock, because then Howard held up a stub of a paintbrush and...widened, the hole, like it was…. "Invisible paint?" I asked rhetorically, knowing how I made it, how to make it again, the impossible super-science behind the microbes literally bypassing the object they were applied to in order for light, and by extension sight to go right through.

It's official, just from this, I declare my powers Bullshit. Even if I didn't just now remember the gas canister setup is literally breeding biodiesel from plant waste via a microbial reaction caused by a special colony of bacteria I'd fostered within minutes from a combination of discarded cigarette butts, lint I took from some random mook's belly button, and a heap of mold I scraped from the walls of the place…ew, my powers are gross...


	3. Chapter 3

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Catalyst 1.3**_

[Saturday, October 16, 2010]

So I made fuel for Squealer, actually, constantly replenishing fuel so long as the colony was fed and the collection canisters harvested. Then immediately moved on to making what I have decided to dub Clear Coat, and was in the midst of yet another creation when Rahj and Howard had physically removed me from the workshop to eat and rest. According to Rahj and Howard anyhow, I obviously wasn't in any state of mind to pay attention to anything besides my immediate work.

Meanwhile, Squealer was utterly ecstatic, likely since I added yet another Tinker to the Merchants, and thus far, my powers synergized with her own. While on the other hand, Skidmark was getting excited, even contacting the other capes in the crew for a meeting, likely with me as the focus.

I'm just concerned about what Atrocious Alias he's going to stick me with. Hopefully it's better than Mush or Trainwreck. Those two really got the short stick on Skidmark's naming sense, which was nonexistent to begin with. Sure, his own name was fairly clever, but Squealer likely got her name from how she sounds in bed, and the two mentioned previously were clear examples of how little thought he put into it.

What's wrong with me? I'm thinking about what he's going to make my Cape Name over calling my mom? She must be worried sick. Or even drugged stupid without me there to keep her stable, either way I have to try calling her. And of course, I hadn't realized that taking a dip in the storm drains would've utterly ruined my cheap burner phone, since real phones were out of my budget. Thankfully Rahj lent me his since he was going to replace it soon anyway.

I dialed home with the wish she would answer. "Hello? Who is this?" She asked as if she'd just been woken up, and I would've sighed in relief if it could have made it past whatever anti-emotion barrier there is between my mind and my body.

"Hello mom. I apologize for calling you so late." I stated, getting a murmur of acknowledgement from her.

"Son? Where are you? You're usually home by now...it's almost five in the morning." She grumbled groggily.

"Things have come up. I'll be home soon, perhaps by noon or tonight." I replied, trying to maintain some vain belief that for the immediate future, that Skidmark won't demand my every waking moment to Tinker for the gang. I might even need to fight him on letting me continue to attend school.

"What came up? What's wrong?" And there's the parental panic.

"I can't talk about it now. I will tell you whenever I get home mom." I said, and she sighed in resignation.

"Just make it home, okay?" She pleaded, and I...can't say I Felt regret for causing her even more anxiety, because that would mean I feel emotion beyond mere instants, but I still believed it somewhat cruel of me to tell her I'm alright, and then refuse to tell her more than that.

"I will. I promise you that." Because honestly, even if the others want me on tap 24-7 like Squealer, I'm not going to skip on an education when I still have one, as bad as it is.

"Okay. G'night son." She hung up, and I handed the phone back to Rahj.

"So she's the one you're in the game to protect, huh?" He asked rhetorically, because clearly even as an emotionless shell I still somehow managed to give the impression that my mother was important to me. Considering I even asked for a way to contact her and tell her of my status, that does make it a good conclusion to draw.

"That obvious?" I asked blandly, making an effort to quirk an eyebrow, getting Rahj to grin. If I get enough practice faking emotion, maybe I can still keep a secret identity. That sounded unhealthy. Does this make me a sociopath? I'm a sociopath aren't I?

"Yes. You're a mama's boy and you wear that with pride." Rahj joked, poking my belly, and I managed to force an awkward glare at him, making him laugh. "Hey you're already getting better at expressions. Keep practicing though, you still look like a doll trying to be a human."

"Gee, thanks." I blandly responded, and I could almost believe it was just dry sarcasm, I might actually get a hang of this whole faking humanity thing.

"Alright ya shit-streak! Front and center!" Skidmark shouted into the room I'd been relaxing in, and I lazily stood up without any hurry. I was glad Rahj and Howard had gotten me some spare clothes to replace my damp rags once they pulled me away from my tinkering. I was wearing much the same outfit as them now, baggy cargo pants, plain t-shirt, and faded light blue overcoat in all. Funny enough, this was from Howard, and it fit quite well. What is it with Merchants and wearing clothes way too big for them?

I left the small room that must have been a storage closet at some point with Rahj at my back to be met with the sight of all the Capes in the Merchants already assembled.

Squealer and Skidmark were of course in attendance already, but I hadn't expected Mush, or especially Trainwreck to be here so fast. Mush because he usually hangs around the dump on the north end of the city, and Trainwreck because he was often lurking in the Ship Graveyard or Trainyard, both were quite a few miles from this hideout which was in the Market District's abandoned fishery just off of Lord Street. "Well, you two are oddly prompt."

"Huh? The new guy's got lip?" Mush, a small, pink, pot-bellied little imp of a man asked from within his mountain of rags. He wore so many layers of ratty and even rotting clothing it was impossible to see his features if you hadn't known what he looked like already. And his old enormous travel pack filled to the brim with what most would call garbage sat so heavy on his frame, he was hunched over like some beleaguered traveling merchant.

I somehow withheld my comment that the astounding varieties of bacteria on his person would be interesting to cultivate for my experiments.

"I like him. He has a spine." Trainwreck commented with his distorted, inhuman voice. Trainwreck very well fit the description of his name. Oh wow, a point to Skidmark for that one then. He was a humanoid assembly of junk on the outside, with steam systems, and clockwork underneath. Everyone assumed that he was a Case 53, a Monster Cape, because he had no apparent human body under all that scrap, and he was a Tinker on top of all that, but his work was crude, fast, and sturdy.

And besides, no normal human being has legs that bend like that, or arms with those many joints, or a head that squat with shoulders that high. He almost felt like a junkyard robot trying too hard to be human.

"I should hope so, or I'd be paralyzed from the neck down." I dryly tried to snark, and it fell flat. Tough crowd.

"Ignore the new meat's shit fellas. He's cold as a witch's tit or some shit." Ouch. If I had feelings, that might've hurt. "He's some sort of chem Tinker from what Squealer says, and fuck, I almost thought I was high when I saw that one-way hole in the wall he made with real fucking invisible paint like some cheap cartoon gag!" Skidmark cackled, he must've snorted a small dose if he's this jovial but focused. "So, straight to business. His name's Dealer, and he's going to be cooking up new drugs for the gang."

The absolute hell? He's going to make me cook designer tinker drugs? ...Typical. I have no choice, or do I? Maybe I can turn this on it's head. Also; Dealer? That's my Cape Name? Oh well. "Hm, you sure about that Skidmark? I could do that, but I can also continue onto my next project; a resin that can turn normal clothing into bulletproof material." Skidmark looked at me like I just spat poop out of my mouth. "We could even make a killing, sell shirts of the stuff for 100 dollars a shirt, while we either pay bare bones or nothing for the materials."

The other four were quiet, and I was thankful I had Rahj, and when did Howard get in here? Regardless, I apprechate they were behind me, made me believe myself a bit safer despite knowing they were just normal humans, and the four in front of me were far more than that. "Hold on. You're saying, you can make our clothes into Tinker-fab?" Squealer broke the silence, and it helped lower the tension a bit.

"Yes. I could quite easily convert the whole gang's wardrobe if I had a large enough mixing station. A vat. And the materials to make the resin, which is ridiculously cheap. I just need large quantities of water, a thickener like gelatin in a lower quantity so it just makes it more consistent, a resin activator I can synthesize from the common materials used for cocaine, and grass." After I finished, everyone looked at me oddly. "Yes. Grass, the kind you cut on a lawn. I'll need tons of it, and preferably a mulcher or even a fiberglass chopper gun to help parse it down to the bare plant fibers. That's the most crucial part."

"This old fishery should actually have most of all that. Especially since I'm using the unloading bay as my motor pool. We just need grass." Squealer commented helpfully, and Skidmark's disgusting pistachio teeth broadened into a yellow grin.

"Oh yes! Fuck me running that sounds awesome! Bulletproof clothes? Fuck the ABB and E88! They don't have that kinda shit! Get to work on it now! Boys; you two round up some of the crew, drive through town with some cheap mowers and collect the grass our new Dealer needs!" Skidmark ordered of Rahj and Howard, who nodded and ran off briskly.

"Well I can get set up and prepared while I wait for the grass, but I need the grass before I can mix anything." Well dang, I was thinking of going home to relax for the day or something before I got down to business.

"If that's the case, then fuck off and go home for now. You're still fucked up from that lab explosion and I'd rather my new Tinker didn't fuck himself over so soon." Skidmark ordered, turning to leave and grabbing Squealer's butt as he forcibly guided her out, getting a squeal of surprise out of her. "Alright boys, meeting's done. I'm gonna plow Squeals and get some sleep."

"Fucking damn it Skids!" Squealer shrieked indignantly, but with a tone of excitement as they left the room.

"Damn that's always a disgusting image." Trainwreck rumbled before looking at me. "I'll see if I can't build a mulcher from some of the broken machines here."

"Thank you. And Mush, I'd like to see you sometime soon. You're absolutely loaded with all sorts of bacteria and other little goodies I could cultivate for useful creations." I blankly stated now that introductions were over with, getting Mush to shift around awkwardly.

"Uh...sure? I don't know if that's a compliment or an insult…." Mush muttered as he turned to leave, Trainwreck following.

...Who's giving me a ride home?

[Pick Your Poison]

Apparently anyone. All I had to do was ask, and I practically had some mooks scrambling to find one of the designated van drivers to get me where I needed to go. Apparently becoming a Cape in a gang instantly elevates you to a leadership position.

Hm...I need a mask and a costume now don't I? Capes have those right?

"Alright, this the place?" My driver asked since I was riding shotgun in the invisible van he'd borrowed. Hell, I didn't even know Squealer kept a log of her rigs on a proper sign-in/sign-out sheet before now. That lady should be the one running the gang, not that pig Skidmark.

"Yes. Thank you. I'll give the main desk a call when I need pickup." I told him before I got out, closing the door to see the interior vanish. Impressively, Squealer had someone set up a call system to coordinate the fleet of vans, but only the leaders and lieutenants were allowed to have the number. It was so the scattered drug labs and other operations had a way to order transportation or shipping, all unnoticed and ridiculously hard to track. It was a large part of why outside of freak incidents like with the attack on the 12th Street lab that the Merchants were never fully shut down.

And also why we kept getting our arrested members back from occasional law enforcement crackdowns with invisible smash-and-grab tactics. The fronts of these vans were reinforced with ramming prows to take out armored cars, and anything less. Also what few have been taken out or captured by the PRT and Protectorate implode their engines and stealth field systems to slag when scanned or tampered with to keep Armsmaster or his friend in Canada, Dragon, from finding a work-around.

After thinking that the van was gone, I turned around and looked at my squat, run-down home. It was the standard fare for someone living in the slums, at least in the more residential western half the ABB had free reign over. The roof was sagging in places, the front steps were long gone, replaced with an old plank of plywood for a ramp, and one of the windows was taped over with duct tape and plastic bags from when a shootout had blown out the window last year.

Dad didn't make it. The bullets that sprayed through the window took him.

I wish I could feel sad right now. I despise this emptiness. Or at least, intellectually I do. To despise it would mean I feel the emotion.

After reminiscing how the ABB had killed my father with stray gunfire, I strode up to the front door, took out my key, and let myself in. "Mom, I'm home." I stated, not getting a response. Right, it's almost 7am. She has a shift at the office. Mom got work as a secretary at the Dockworker's Association shortly after dad died. Mr. Hebert, Taylor's dad, was a good friend of my father's, and extended a hand to help.

Joy, another reason I previously felt terrible for not helping Taylor at all, her father has helped keep us afloat with that job, even offering mom emotional support in providing access to the Association's self-help programs when he realized she was addicted to drugs.

I think, it's only logical that I do something to help.

Not just Taylor, but Mr. Hebert as well.

Maybe, even, the whole city.

The resin I described to the others, it could be used for far more than clothing. It could apply a ballistic fiber coating to anything it was applied to, adding durability where there once was none. Can it work on skin? Maybe. I'd need a test subject, a living one. As morally negative that may seem, it would be necessary to see if I could give almost anyone a slight endurance boost.

Also, if we sold Ballistic Coated, hm...Balcoat clothing to the dock workers first, to help them protect themselves, it could foster goodwill. Then, I might be able to use more legitimate services through the Association to acquire more resources, ingredients. And if they could, use them to sell some of my products. It's less suspicious if a blue-collar organization produces 'rugged work clothing' than if some filthy gangers try to peddle it.

Regardless, that's for later. For now, my mom isn't here, and I'll likely be gone before she gets home in the early afternoon. I go to the dining table, and with a pencil write her a note on the notepad left there for us to leave messages to each other in case we miss one another again.

I raid the fridge, and just eat some leftover breakfast muffins I'd baked yesterday morning before going to school. I squeeze my fat belly and consider if there was any way to tinker myself skinny. Nothing immediately came to mind, but the possibility felt distinct. I figured a bit of exercise was in order, once I healed.

Speaking of which.

I went to the basement, which was mostly used for storage, and after raiding the Endbringer Emergency Kit, a thing from back when people thought it would help, for some supplies. I quickly used a worktable, some mason jars, and cooking equipment to whip up a nice little healing paste from the antiseptics, antibiotic ointment, and some almost old strawberries which a couple of them had some useful mold spots. I applied the pink paste across my scabbed and inflamed flayed back with a wooden spatula, into my scabbing and angry red gash on my calf, and over my already flaking burn.

I'm tired.

I've decided I'm going to sleep until either mom is home, or one of Skidmark's flunkies come to collect me. I've had a long night, and good portion of today.

I trudge to my room, tossing Rahj's clothes next to my lumpy old too-small full-size bed, and collapsed onto my face. I squirmed around a bit, not caring if the paste got on anything, worming around on the blanket-stacked bed to get comfortable.

It's been a long, long night.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Catalyst 1.4**_

[Saturday, October 16, 2010]

I snort and jolt awake, my vision blurry and my injuries tingling. There's noise in the kitchen.

I stifle a groan as I slowly push myself off of my inviting blanket-stacked bed, and warily stumble down the hall and into the main area of the house. "Ma?" I groggily croaked as I rubbed my eyes clear of gunk.

"Son! Oh thank gosh you're actually okay." I blinked as I felt my tiny 5-foot-nothing mother wrap her arms around me and squeeze as much as her feeble body could manage. She was only in her 40s, but drugs and stress had worked a toll on my dear mother. Her once beautiful blonde hair had bleached silver, and unlike my fat butt, she was emaciated from her meth addiction that she was thankfully in the final stages of rehab of-.

-Ow. Ow. Back. The pain. "Stop." I managed to gently remove her now slimy red hands from my still bare back...ew, that must be all over my bed.

"AH~!" Marian Ruebs screamed in terror at the gooey red slime on her hands that had come from my back, flicking it onto the floor before she ran to the sink, desperately washing it off. "What is this?! Son, what's wrong?!" Mom started screaming as she scurried back towards me, and despite her size whipped me around, and began squealing in horror again. "OH GOD! 911! We've gotta-!"

"No." I sternly interjected, turning back around to face her. I still spoke blandly but at least I could raise my tone. "That's just unexpected discharge from my paste concoction. It seems it absorbed blood like a sponge or bandage while helping my skin heal over. Hm, I should've seen that coming to pass now I think of it. I just kinda let my powers guide me in the direction of; 'this will heal me'." Mom seemed to pale, shaking a bit as she backed into a chair and managed to sit down.

"Oh fuck...no...my son's a Cape...oh no…." Mom fretted, putting her face in her hands as I looked on impassively. "You've been recruited by the Merchants already?"

"Mom, we both know I was already a member when they came to take you away and I intervened. Guess I've got to actually wear the membership bracelet now." Besides pale or light blue as colors, the Merchants also used unique bracelets to identify members. Oddly enough, Skidmark had apparently thought of it before he'd become a brain-dead junkie. Each bracelet was a bead and knot affair, with your name in beads, with knots placed in specific patterns. Once you had your bracelet, you didn't fuck with it or you would risk getting shanked or shot when asked for ID. I didn't need it before since the gang had leverage on me. Now though, since I'm an asset, I was definitely a full member.

It's not like it's unique to the Merchants either though, the ABB had their decorative scarves, and the E88 their medals. Yes. Effin' medals. Like good, 'proper' Nazi 'soldiers'. Why can I still snark in my head and not with my mouth?

"Fuck...honey, why don't you jump into the Wards program? Those lowlives can't get us if we're in with the PRT and Protectorate." Mom suggested, and I blinked. I hadn't even considered that.

However. "Mom...my powers have also sapped my ability to feel emotions. I don't think a sociopath would be good for their PR." I pointed out, and she gasped as she looked at me in shock. "Yes. Your son is a robot. Woo…." I blandly tried to ham...I miss being able to ham. Mouse Protector and Myrddin are my favorite heroes for their silly eccentricities. Miss Militia is up there too because of how nice she is, but being a hormonal teenager, and currently more stable with emotions being blocked, I am able to accept and acknowledge that it was also because her special military fatigues left little to the imagination with how well they hugged her form.

And unlike the previous two she was also in the city I live, which lent more credence to her proclaimed kindness and any impossible dirty fantasies my previously hormone-driven mind had thought up were easier to envision. Huh...my powers may have killed my physical libido. Shame.

"Well...good luck son. I can't stop you, I can just hope you don't get killed." Mom sighed in resignation. "I need a drink."

"No beer either." I blandly reminded. Once mom had gotten mostly off meth, she'd turned to alcohol to try and fill the void. I'd done my best to keep her sober and clean, but it was mostly the Association's self-help classes helping her through it all.

"I know son. I'm just going to have an early dinner and go to bed. You should-." Mom was interrupted by a loud pounding on our front door, making her jump and me to move with purpose back to my room.

It was too soon for the ABB's 'collection' time, so it might very well be some of the gang, or cops. Please not cops. I ignored the noise of my mom answering the door, hastily rubbing the gooey red substance that-hm...I'll have to store this, could be useful. I stuffed the shirt I used to scrape the gunk off as well as the top blanket of my bed into a plastic bin in my closet for safekeeping, hopefully it'll germinate some interesting pathogens or bacterial cultures I could utilize. Just gotta keep it out of the sunlight.

After that, I slipped on a clean 'Love Me Not' grey shirt and then threw Howard's coat on. This time I made sure to dig up my membership bracelet from my nightstand and slip it onto my left forearm under the sleeve. I checked on my leg gash, the gunk there was negligible, as well was the slough of dead flesh from my arm, so I just scooped those into the bin and finished getting dressed in some not-too-dirty brown cargo pants that were feeling a bit cinched in the groin.

Great. Forgot I'm still a growing teenager and these pants haven't been worn for months. How to bring up my crotch to my mom who does the clothes shopping? Even without hormones or outward emotion clouding my judgement, I was not outright willing to bring up the size of my genitalia to my mother. Maybe I can just ask for a bigger waistband?

"Hey! Fat fuck! Get your waddling snarky ass out here already you blank-faced shitstain!" Great. Skidmark is in my house. Joy. I'm surprised he was quiet for this long-. "Bitch I said hurry up! Your mom's stash is low-grade dick cheese!" She still had some? At least she's using it to try and keep Skidmark appeased instead of using it herself if her still improving health was any indicator.

"I'd appreciate if you treated my home with some respect." I stated as I strode out into the living room. If I could emote properly I would've gasped or something. "Why are you all here?" Such a question is merited, considering every single Cape in the Merchants was huddled in my living room like it was just another hideout.

"Because you nose-wiping little bitch, you're totally fresh, and you've gotta get an outfit pronto!" Skidmark declared, his blue bandana covering the top half of his head with holes cut out for his eyes. The rest of his outfit was a weird cross of a pimp, grease monkey, and cheesy supervillain. For his coat, it almost looked like a tattered and stained crossbreed between a fur-lined pimp coat, cape, and leather jacket that was all sewn together like frankenstein's monster and left to rot, all cheaply dyed blue, his worn out blue jeans and sneakers somehow fit.

"What Skids is saying, is that you've had the luck to Trigger in the middle of October. There's all sorts of Halloween goodies to grab to base your costume off of." Squealer informed. If I wasn't constantly suppressed by my power, I'd probably be beyond red in the face right now. Her costume had a full-head streamlined motorcycle helmet that had the visor blacked out with tint, it was also covered with pink cheetah print decals, while she wore a practically skintight pink sporty motorcycle suit with black jackboots and greaser gloves. This was the very first time I'd seen her even in costume, she was usually kept behind the scenes.

"Basically what they said." Mush muttered around his sandwich, which my mom had clearly made for him, looking more worried over how scrawny Mush was for his admittedly small size, barely being my mom's height even. How the raggedly dressed man lugged all that trash around with him without his power was a mystery.

"Finished the mulcher. Didn't have much better to do." Trainwreck ground out from where he stood near a corner.

"Alright. I see the benefit to getting disguised ASAP. Where are we going?" Knowing this group, it was going to be-.

"That fuckin' once-a-year shop that pops up just outside the Boardwalk every October! They've got all the getups and props you could ever need! Not to mention some of those kick-ass fog machines! I wanna fuckin' monologue with fog all over the place! Not to mention all the trippy shit being high with that stuff clouding the air could do." -Stupid and dangerous.

"The Wards and Protectorate patrol around there often." I mentioned, getting acknowledgement from everyone but Skidmark with a nod, while the leader of our group simply started cursing random obscenities.

"Like that fuckin' matters ya big fat pussy! We're just gonna smash in, grab shit, and get out! Easiest damn thing in the universe! Besides, we're more likely to run into the sniveling kiddie-scouts than the white-hats! They ain't got nothin' on us! Besides, like we'll take a fresh bitch into the fire without some potholders." Skidmark fished into his coat, jacket, cape, thing, and fished out a brown ski mask, before tossing it at my face, which I placidly let hit me before I caught it. "Put that on Dealer. Let's go!"

At that, Skidmark jumped to his feet, and I felt a faint internal flash of pure, unadulterated Rage when he spanked my mom's butt as he passed, getting her to squeak and back away as the others moved to follow. I put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, nodding blandly before I yanked the mask over my head. Good thing it's cold outside, this thing didn't even have a mouth opening. "Be careful son!" Mom yelled after us, and I lazily raised an arm before I rushed outside to the curb, just barely jumping into the open invisible van door before Squealer gunned it and the door slid shut.

"Alright bitches! We're gonna swing by a nearby stash, grab Squeal's toy, and then we're gonna fuckin' bust a nut across the city and get us some jizz-tastic fog machines!" Skidmark reiterated needlessly. I wish I could snark with actual sarcasm right now, even if it meant getting punched.

"Which toy?" Trainwreck asked Squealer as she drove us through back alleys and even traffic like a daredevil, making the other drivers of these vans look like pedestrian laymen.

"The rainy-day one!" Squealer gleefully replied, obviously relishing the idea of using one of her rigs. "It's just a big fat ram, it'll do great for busting down a storefront!" Squealer took a hard turn, weaving around civilian cars like they were traffic cones in a driving course. We were heading south, almost reaching the edge of the slums where Downtown started to pick up.

"You mean the garbage truck?" Mush asked eagerly, getting an affirming cackle from Squealer. "I call the bed!"

"Fuckin' shotgun!" Skidmark declared from his current shotgunner seat.

"Looks like you and I are hanging on the back kid." Trainwreck shrugged, and I...wish I could sigh, but it looks like bland indifference is the best I can do unless I really try.

"I hope I find something good. I'm not just going to take anything I can grab." I inform them as I hang on to a seat of the van for dear life.

"Just be quick about it! Like you said, we'll likely get caught by the Wards. They're a cinch to deal with, but I'd rather not they hold us long enough for the PRT or Protectorate to join in." Squealer eloquently rehashed my prior statement mere moments before we bolted between two smaller buildings into an almost enclosed back alley. "There you are~..."

Squealer's tone was a little too lustful in my opinion. It was just a rusty old garbage truck parked off to the side of the alley so nobody would notice it out of hand in the trash-filled alleyway. At least it was, before Squealer took out a TV remote and pressed some buttons while aimed at it, and soon spikes, a cow catcher, and even what seemed to be some sort of turrets folded out of it until it looked like something out of a Mad Max wet dream. "That's…'just' a 'big fat ram'?" I questioned.

"No cloaking system, made from literal scrap, only about as tough as a bulldozer. Yeah, just a ram." Squealer shrugged, as if the murder-mobile we were about to ride into thievery wasn't anything special at all. "It also can't go too fast, which is for the best, or we'd be buried under a mountain of wrecked cars that didn't get out of the way fast enough, so we'll likely have to ditch it once we've got the goods."

"Aw, but garbage." Mush joked as he started collecting garbage from inside his pack as well as from the alley, covering himself as he slowly started to take on his massive trash golem form. "I'll be ready to smash any idiots who fuck with us." Mush declared as he used his massive bulky trash limbs to climb up into the truck's open-top bed, bulking up even more as he braced for a rough ride.

"Keep a strong grip kid." Trainwreck advised as he guided me towards the back of the truck, Squealer and Skidmark already in the cabin, starting the monster up with a thundering roar that could clearly be heard from outside the alley, since a couple pedestrians jolted, and upon sight of what was happening, ran off. "I might not be able to grab you fast enough if you fall off."

"Thanks for the honesty." I blandly replied, climbing up onto the left stirrup of the back end of the truck,which was oddly padded with cut up tire pieces across the whole back, while Train took the right stirrup. The fact it snapped didn't hinder him, as he literally split his legs into multiple spindly legs to latch onto the bumper, his right arm changing into a hydraulic clamp to securely hold onto the truck to the point of warping the metal. The fact that aside from Mush he was the Merchant's heaviest hitter was beyond obvious if he could adapt to such a situation so casually.

"Alright bitches we're rolling out!" Skidmark screamed back at us, and Squealer blared the horn which was several decibels deeper and resonating than it had any right to be. With that, the garbage rig practically exploded in a burst of speed out of the alley, tossing an unfortunate SUV across the street. We turned and sped off so fast I couldn't tell where Squealer hit it or if anybody died, but I wasn't holding any hope that anyone in that vehicle could survive a beast like this hitting it.

"She said this was slow!" I deadpanned as loud as I could to be heard over the thundering metal beast I was holding onto for dear life.

"This is slow. You should see some of her getaway cars, and that van we'll have to pick up later was going easily twice as fast as this." Trainwreck helpfully replied, getting me to randomly wonder if Squealer could build the Delorean from Back to the Future, a really cool Earth Aleph movie trilogy I and dad really loved.

In my musing, I almost got knocked off by the rig scraping the left side through the corner of a building as Squealer jumped the sidewalk to cut a corner, quite literally. Seconds later, I slammed into the rubber-covered back of the truck and was flung backwards, thankfully my pratfall practice allowed me to recover into a roll and avoid further injury, even if it did agitate the fresh skin on my back, but I was still too winded and dizzy to jump to my feet. Thankfully, Train saw it prudent to help me up. "Thanks."

"Nice recovery. Get in there, we won't have long. I'll help Skids find a fog machine while Squeals should help you with your costume, her being a chick and all." Trainwreck stated as he helped me move towards the smashed-in storefront, we really booked it here fast. These guy's definition of 'slow' needed work.

"Alright Dealer, follow me!" Squealer gushed as she came around the front, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me towards some aisles that hadn't been knocked down from the impact. I swear, I better figure out a way around this emotion blocking, because just yesterday a woman this stacked and lewdly dressed would've had me a stuttering mess.

"What would you suggest?" I asked as she quickly started sifting through racks of costumes as I dutifully ignored the screams of customers as Skidmark terrorized them elsewhere.

"Anything that could fit on over-nice! Put this on!" Squealer gushed as she ripped a mask out of a costume package, ignoring the rest to fit it over my current mask, which was, oddly, rather comfy. I blinked through the black mesh 'lenses' which let me see clearly as she pulled me further along the aisle.

"What did you-?"

"Oh yes! Put on this too!" Squealer grabbed a money-print pullover hoodie off a hanger, practically stripped off Howard's coat with ease, and forced it over my head, helping me pull my arms through the sleeves along with my long-faced mask through the neck collar, and then threw Howard's pale blue coat overtop it. Before I could try and ask again, she pulled the hood up, and pulled a mesh veil from the top of it down, which covered my whole face but left the tip of the elongated mask poking under it. "Tits! You look pretty badass as it is."

"What am I-?" Again, before I could continue, Squealer grabbed a pair of brown fake leather gloves and slipped them over my hands, meaning I was now completely covered from head to toe.

"Some knee and elbow pads and you'll be-!" Squealer was interrupted by a thundering crash outside, and she tugged me towards the front of the store. "Time to go! Skids you better be ready cuz we're leaving!"

"Got a fog machine! Let's go!" Skidmark crowed as he and Squealer ran for the cabin, Skidmark somehow managing to lug a boxy contraption the size of a mini-fridge with his scrawny frame into the passenger side. I took the cue to rush out of the busted-down wall, tripping and almost landing face-first into the rubble on a twisted piece of rebar and cement, only saving myself from the head injury with my thankfully gloved hands.

I groaned as I heard Trainwreck rush past me, and when I looked up I saw a surreal situation. It was two of the Wards, a team of underage heroes that junior under the Protectorate, America's government sanctioned superhero organization. They were fending off Mush handily, since one of them was flying on a hoverboard and raining laser blasts on him with twin Tinkertech pistols, while the second, a heavily armored one in near-blinding bright power-armor was also pelting him with energy blasts from his hands.

Seeing Mush trying to escape, and Trainwreck drawing their attention, I looked at the twisted length of rebar I tripped on, it'd make a more than effective club. Picking it up, I rushed out as Trainwreck drew their fire, and I smashed my improvised weapon into the back of the power-armored one's left knee.


	5. Interlude 1a

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Knight**_

[Saturday, October 16, 2010]

The ride back to PRT HQ was both awkward, and painful for Dean Stansfield. The windowless PRT van hitting a bump in the road made him hiss as it jostled his damaged knee. "Dude, I am so sorry." Apologized the other teenager in the back of the van with him, the red and gold costumed teen looking beside himself with grief etched onto his face where the visor over his eyes didn't cover.

"Stop apologizing." Dean insisted to his friend Chris, aka Kid Win. "Neither of us are at fault for this." Dean, aka; Gallant insisted. He was leaning to the right, favoring his left side since even with his silver, white, and blue power armor, a new Cape had blindsided him and busted his left knee from behind.

"I made your armor. So I'm to blame." Chris insisted, and Dean sighed in exasperation at the losing battle he would have to fight to keep Chris from blaming himself for something that happened in a situation beyond their control. The fact he could both see and feel his friend's distraught made it even harder to let him accept the blame.

"Chris, nobody but Armsmaster or Dragon can make power armor that has full shielding at the back of the knee." Dean tried to reason, only for Chris to fall silent and withdraw. Dean grit his teeth in frustration at seeing his friend's emotions settle into self-loathing and depression. "Damn it Chris! Don't make me blast you with joy!" Dean seethed, if there was one thing that could break through his calm and gentlemanly manner, it was a friend hurting themselves on his behalf, which made interacting with Missy so rough on him in spite of how much he genuinely enjoyed her company despite it.

"I'd deserve it." Chris grumbled, referring to the physical impact Dean's blasts contain, and Dean sighed, deciding to give up for now, as hard as it was for him.

After a few more minutes of awkward silence, the windowless PRT van slowed to a stop. "Guess we're back." Dean mumbled moments before the back doors swung open from the exuberant action of the red-costumed hero who beamed at them with a far-too-fake smile. Dean winced, hard. He could see the lances of pure FURY pumping through Ethan aka; Assault. The very instant the hero had seen Dean down, he had become filled with an incandescent rage to chase after the vanished Merchants which, through seeming light-hearted banter with Battery, was barely prevented from happening in lieu of helping the two Wards get processed faster.

"Hey boys! We're back! Ready to pay a visit to the nurse? She has lollipops~!" Ethan hammed emphatically, getting Dean to wince again at how Ethan barely managed to use his false enthusiasm to keep his wrath contained since they weren't the source.

"Eth-Assault. Calm down." Said Julie, or Battery as she was called in her grey and light blue circuit board costume. She put a hand on her husband's shoulder after she had come around the back. Her aura was flush with concern and love for her husband, who she knew was taking Dean's injury incredibly hard. "Just help me move Gallant by negating as much energy on his left side as you can. The sooner he's in the infirmary-."

"Belay that." Interrupted a PRT officer who joined the heroes from the other side of the van. "I'm afraid that since the injury isn't life-threatening, Director Piggot has ordered an immediate debrief considering this is a possible first encounter with a new cape."

"Is she damaged?!" Ethan exploded, Julie just barely wrapping an arm around her husband's bicep to prevent him lunging at the unfortunate messenger, who didn't even flinch at seeing the female hero barely manage to restrain her husband's temper. "He could be crippled! He's definitely in severe pain! The sooner he's diagnosed-!"

"The sooner, Panacea will be called anyway." Julie urged at her husband, who huffed, growled, and practically stomped back to the van.

"C'mon kid. I'll get us there asap so you can get fixed up sooner." Ethan grumbled, and Dean hissed as the adult hero handily picked him up, full suit of power armor and all, and began jogging towards the elevators. Dean was still impressed with the Protectorate hero, using his power in such interesting ways. He was using the inertia and energy from his motions to let him carry Dean, but also nullify any motion Dean would've received. It was like Dean was on a wall-guided rail and Ethan was just pushing him while supporting him up.

Dean chuckled wryly in spite of the situation, perhaps because despite his internal anger, Ethan tried his hardest to cheer those around him up. "Thanks Assault." Dean sighed, trying not to linger on the fact that despite the adult hero bouncing around he wasn't, the illogical dichotomy was enough to give most people a headache.

"It's no problem Gallant." Ethan smiled genuinely, the red fury of his aura laced with yellow happiness for barely a moment, but it was enough to help Dean relax. "Just be glad we're in the underground entrance, imagine the things people would say if they saw us like this!" Ethan hammed, and Dean groaned in exasperation at the very idea that yet Another slash ship of him with another male on PHO would very quickly become reality.

"Thank whatever deities exist for that little tidbit then. Vicky would get jealous." Dean joked softly as the elevator doors interleaved together and the Tinkertech lift almost unnoticeably started moving up, Ethan still jogging in place to maintain his power's energy transfer while Julie was whispering into Chris's ear, clearly trying to placate him if the lessening depression in his aura was any indication.

Soon enough, the doors opened and they briskly jogged to the Director's office. Julie barely gave the frosted glass office door a knock before entering and holding it open to let the rest of them in. Ethan promptly set Dean down in a reinforced chair in front of Director Emily Piggot's desk, said chair meant for himself and other armored capes that reported to her office.

Once sat, Dean sighed and looked up at his superiors, not at all surprised to see Armsmaster behind Director Piggot and to her right, looking rather frustrated himself under his helmet's visor, his beard crinkled along with his serious frown, his heavy suit of dark blue power armor was even more imposing due to the situation. Dean grimaced, if Ethan was furious, then the amount of Ire that was in both Armsmaster and the Director was brighter than the sun. He was thankful that wrath wasn't aimed directly at him.

"So, let me get this straight." Director Piggot, an overweight woman who couldn't be past 35 with bleach blond hair in a bob cut began as she bridged her fingers together, glaring hotly at Gallant and Kid Win. "You engaged the Merchants to buy time for Assault and Battery to arrive. But while you were busy pelting Mush and Trainwreck, an unknown Parahuman smashed Gallant's knee out?"

"That's about it ma'am." Chris shrugged nervously in his normal non-reinforced chair next to Dean. Dean was rather uneasy that of course, the PRT already had a preliminary report of the situation before their own input could be given, meaning this debrief was more or less a formality. "I was too busy trying to keep Trainwreck from double-teaming him to focus any fire on the new enemy once I saw Gallant down."

"Are you sure it was a Parahuman, and not just a costumed thug they brought along?" Armsmaster, the leader of the Protectorate East NorthEast asked.

"Yes sir, I not only could not sense anything, at all, from them, but when I shot them with a wide blast of pure despair, they didn't react at all beyond stumbling from the impact. At least Mush and Trainwreck slowed down despite their various defenses." Gallant informed his superiors of the fine detail that convinced him his assailant was a Parahuman, as his experience has told him nothing had no emotion, aside from a person born with sociopathy.

"Describe what this new Parahuman looked like." Piggot ordered, wanting to at least get a file started on this new Cape. Dean now understood that this debrief wasn't a formality, he just wasn't familiar with the protocols on encounters with new capes, it'd been months since he'd even looked at his Wards handbook.

"They were big, as in both tall and overweight. About 6 feet tall, and if I took a rough guess, at least 300 pounds. But because of how baggy their clothes were and the weight, it was hard to tell if they were male or female, since they also didn't speak." Chris gave out, Dean had no doubt that Armsmaster was recording this and testing his helmet's social protocols.

"Also, their name called out by Trainwreck; Dealer, is gender neutral, so we have no way to infer a gender from that either." Dean grumbled, bitter about the new cape having injured him despite his armor. Especially because it would take a long time for Chris to emotionally recover from this.

"Not to mention, Dealer is such a broad term, it could mean anything. Did they use any obvious powers?" Armsmaster inquired.

"No. They didn't display anything besides being invisible to my emotion sensing, and immune to my emotion blasts." Gallant reiterated. "Which could either mean they're a Stranger/Thinker, or a genuine sociopath if they no-sell my powers that much. As for their costume, it was obviously hashed together like Skidmark's usual costume. It was a ragged oversized pale blue coat hung over a money-print pullover hoodie that had a veil mask, but under the veil mask was obviously another mask. Couldn't see it clearly, but it had some sort of snout coming out of the hood."

"Likely pieced together at the crime scene from the Halloween shop's stock. At least this helps point out a motive for the crime. As for their possible powers or mental state, let's hope it's only the former. The last thing the Merchants need is a pragmatic sociopath under their banner. A Stranger or Thinker we can anticipate, a mentally diseased person is much harder to predict." Director Piggot growled. "Is there anything else of significance boys? Did the Merchants display any other unusual developments?"

Dean and Chris looked at each other, both mentally figuring that aside from the new member, the smash-and-grab was standard Merchant randomness. "No." Dean replied for them both, Chris just nodding along with him.

"Then get checked out. Both of you. I don't care if you're untouched Kid Win, I'm not chancing you having been nicked by a rusty metal implement or even touched by filth." Emily ordered with a disgusted expression. Fighting the Merchants was Always a dirty affair, both from them being honorless and opportunistic thugs, and their assorted powers were alone offputting.

"Gladly ma'am." Dean sighed, hissing as Ethan picked him up again.

It was a thankfully short jaunt to the elevator, and then from the elevator to the PRT infirmary, where Dean sighed in a measure of relief when he was put on a reinforced hospital bed. "Okay Dean, this is definitely going to hurt, but I'll have to disassemble the armor around your leg." Chris warned as his trepidation over his level of skill at least brought him out of his depression, even if it just meant his self-loathing just got stronger.

"Have at it, ignore me if I scream now that I'm definitely not in public or in front of the director." Dean warned, looking over at Ethan, since Julie had stayed behind with Armsmaster and the Director, he was the only Hero overseeing them right now as a nurse and doctor prepared to examine him and give Chris point-. "ARGH~!"Dean screamed as Chris hurriedly moved his personally made multitool over Dean's leg. Whatever he was doing was suddenly causing a lot of dead weight to settle on his leg.

Thankfully, after only a minute of screaming in agony, Dean panted as Chris did the same from the stress, holding up the removed, and intact front half of his left leg armor. "Sorry, took a bit for me to find the physical connections once I disconnected it from the rest of the armor's system."

"A-and it just. Popped off?" Dean asked incredulously. He knew the armor Chris made was designed for rapid deployment and repair, but to literally pull a piece off in less than a minute? "Dang Kid, could've told me about those features, it'd make getting in and out of this tin can much faster."

"That's for later. I don't think we even need a scan for this." The doctor; Dr. Ramsey, said as he looked on with clinical dislike for Dean's purple and extremely swollen knee. "It's definitely broken. At the least; the patella has been blown out, and the bone around the connecting areas of your femur and tibia are likely fractured or worse. Did you git hit by a sledgehammer son?" Asked the doctor with pity on his aged Indian features, and Dean sighed.

"Pretty much, it was a twisted rebar club with cement still sticking to it." Dean informed as he tried to ignore how, without the armor holding it together, his knee was giving fresh waves of pain as the swelling began to set in proper without a brace holding it in.

"Damn thugs. I'll give Panacea a call, she should be getting out of her shift at Brockton General around now." Dr. Ramsey said, but Dean waved a hand for him to wait.

"No, I'll call Glory Girl, she's the one who picks her up, and she'd move faster. I'd rather we all get to sleep sometime tonight." Dean reasoned, and Dr. Ramsey nodded his agreement to the action, so Dean winced as he reached into his armor's utility belt, a small, hardly noticeable thing that blended with the rest of the armor. As soon as he found his PRT Issue phone, he flipped it open and used his contacts list to speed-dial his girlfriend.

"Hey babe! What's up? I'm just on my way to pick up Amy." Victoria Dallon aka; Glory Girl instantly answered, almost as if she was ready for him to call. More than likely, she'd been texting while flying again, something everyone is trying to convince her is reckless and failing to accomplish much.

"Hey Vicky. So um...I may be kinda, sorta...crippled." Dean informed his beau bluntly, knowing to beat around the bush and try to lay it out gently wasn't in the cards for the scenario.

"WHAT?! Who did it?! I'll find them and rip their spine-!"

"Vicky, no. Bad." Dean playfully chastised, smiling under his armored mask at his girlfriend's protective streak. She knew he loved that about her, so she was fostering it more often lately, but he often had to remind her to keep her head cool.

"I'm not a pet!" Vicky rebutted without any heat, this was turning into a running gag of theirs, one they both enjoyed. "But anyway, I'm gonna pick up Ames and bring her right to you. Then you're gonna tell us the whole story about what happened, no red-tape bullshit."

"I'm pretty sure so long as you promise not to gossip, this should be okay for you to hear." Dean shrugged, they hadn't been told to keep the new possible cape a secret, but he figured discretion would be the better part of valor. "Also, I'd like to...talk to you and Amy. I think it's time I got something off my chest." Dead decided, right then, that he couldn't put this new topic he'd brought up off anymore. If some no-account hoodlum could take him down, he no longer had any illusions of invincibility, as fragile as they were, and to leave the situation as it was should the worst happen to him was unacceptable.

"Oh? Do you have a dirty little secret? *GASP* You want a threesome with my sister?! You dirty boy!" Vicky teased, making Dean flinch at the very idea for various reasons.

"Vicky. Please." Dean implored, and hearing his tone, Vicky stopped the teasing.

"How serious is it?" Vicky asked worriedly, and rightly so.

"Endbringer serious." Dean whispered, even though the others had moved off to check over Chris once he and Vicky started teasing each other. "Just...trust me. This might destroy all three of us, but I can't ignore it anymore hoping for it to resolve itself, since it clearly isn't happening."

"...Okay. I...I love you…." Vicky nervously declared, figuring to try and keep talking over the phone was pointless at this juncture.

"I love you too. I'll see you both soon." Dean replied, and they hung up. Dean felt a heavy weight crushing his body, the decision to finally fix the situation between himself, Vicky, and Amy feeling like the Sword of Damocles was hanging over him, but he reminded himself he didn't make this decision lightly. He looked down at his knee, and soberly understood that if his attacker had aimed for his neck instead, he would never be able to help someone who desperately needs it.

He'd seen the disdain Amy had for him, the adoration and feelings she had for her sister, the self-loathing both of these things made her feel. Then there was the bleak depression she was constantly mired in that seemed to never lessen unless she was around her sister, and only worsened when she was around either her mother or father, hate and sadness respectively playing a role.

And she may have thought she had kept it a secret, but when she went in for power testing after she triggered, the PRT had labeled her not as a healer, but a Striker 12+ Biokinetic. The testing team had of course seen the potential to do good such power had in the hands of such a well-meaning young woman, so they publically labeled her a Striker 9 Healer while letting her think they were none-the-wiser. The file that held the truth was quickly buried deep, and only broken out in secret for those who would be in consistent contact with Panacea.

Such as himself.

It was why Dean's relationship with Vicky was so loosely fiddled with by his superiors, why it was somewhat encouraged he keep the relationship going, since he could sense emotions and help track Panacea on the fringe.

However, despite him originally seeing nothing wrong with it, he became more disturbed by the girl's deepening despair, and came to genuinely worry about her as a person. He was also coming to care for Victoria as more than a girlfriend, he was beginning to realize what love was, and didn't want that to be lost, or tarnished.

All the more reason he must stop the world's most powerful biokinetic from going Carrie.


	6. Chapter 5

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Catalyst 1.5**_

[Saturday, October 16, 2010]

I strode into the old fishery wearing my new ill-gotten-goods as well as an armful of extra stuff Trainwreck had seen fit to snag and toss into the truck before he had went out to fight the Wards. I could barely hold all the plastic packages holding full-body spandex suits. I'm not sure what was going through his head grabbing the completely covering suits, but I could easily see their worth, even if they were all colors of the rainbow and then some.

"Alright cocksuckers! That was a great run! You all go fuck off and do whatever. I'm gonna smoke some good weed and watch the fog of this thing as I listen to music!" Skidmark gushed, clearly far too excited over his new novelty fog machine. However, after he left, I and the others just looked to each other.

"I need to finish the Balcoat. Train, I'd appreciate if you could show me how to work the mulcher." I said to Trainwreck. At this, Mush shrugged and wandered off, while Squealer took off her helmet and huffed in relief as she headed towards her motor pool.

"Sure. It's simple, like most of my stuff, but I'd like it if you didn't hurt yourself somehow." Trainwreck moved towards the Balcoat station and I had to keep shifting the packs around in my arms since they kept wanting to slip out onto the floor. "Okay, it's manual operated, but I've got the crank system set for a 1:4 ratio, so it won't be hard to crank it up and get the heating coils primed for the boiler to power the mulcher. So yes, that means there's no stop, don't put anything living in it."

I stared at the rusty monstrosity before me that hunched over the five-foot-wide metal vat I was going to use to make my initial batch of Balcoat. The crank was on the side of a massive gearbox as big as I was, leading to a small boiler under the machinery proper, which when I looked down into it, looked like a mix between a wood chipper, paper shredder, and a meat grinder all somehow mishmashed into one. It needed a stepladder to reach and had handles around the lip of the intake hopper to keep users steady, so thankfully his warning would only really apply to true Darwin Award Winners.

"Wow...good work." I complimented, since this machine would more than suit my needs. "I assume the gearbox is essentially a generator that powers the heating coils in the boiler, which uses the pressure to drive the mulcher itself?" Trainwreck blinked, and seemed to inch taller a bit.

"Hey now, good to see somebody can recognize good design. That's the basis of it, I won't bother blathering on about the finer details, since that's not your expertise. Well, if you need anything else, feel free to give me a call. Ask Squealer or whoever for my number if you need me." Trainwreck declared, and I hummed in an effort to display consideration.

"I'll be sure to do that. I believe, that between myself, Squealer, and you, we could really turn the Merchants around." I stated sincerely. I don't think the Empire even Has a Tinker, neither does the ABB. The local Protectorate has two that I know of, but with me, this puts the Merchants at three. Already I can see amazing ideas forming around working together with both Squealer and Trainwreck.

"...Thanks. I'll remember that." Trainwreck responded, and turned to leave with what I assume is a bit of bounce to his gait. I wonder why that is? Was it something I said? Damn, I think my powers are making it a bit harder to recognize emotional tells from others. Better keep practicing.

I heaped the bodysuits on the floor away from the folding table that someone had set up next to the mulcher, and got to work. Thankfully Rahj, Howard, or some other capable member of the crew had already set it up with the standard materials available to a cocaine lab, which was shy several tools a meth lab needed like drying sheets and heavy knives, since cocaine wasn't as wet as meth due to a single major factor. Cocaine was derived from a plant, while Methamphetamine is entirely manmade.

As such, for Balcoat, the plant used for cocaine; Coca, was perfect for the chemical reactions needed to cause a covalent bond between the fibers of the grass, or if I was being greedy, fiberglass, or especially greedy, stone wool, or beyond greedy, carbon fiber, to whatever it was being applied to without compromising the original subject's structure. Honestly, the only reason I decided to use grass instead of fiberglass, stone wool or carbon fiber was entirely due to the availability of the resources and cost effectiveness.

This would, however, mean that anything treated with this specific batch of Balcoat would be flammable, at least on the surface until the fibers burnt off the exterior. Or reduced to cinders, for clothing and other flammables. I'd better put a warning on this batch.

[Pick Your Poison]

Hm, I've been working on this for a while now, I figure I'm done since my workstation is completely used up and I'd stirred the vat thoroughly with a long boat oar that someone had fetched for me when I said I needed to mix the vat. I looked over at the chugging mulcher, the empty garbage bags that once held grass, and then looked down into the old fish vat to see the green shimmering thick liquid in the stages of settling into the carefully measured colloid it needs to be to collegiate and form a covalent bond when dry.

Oh...I should get this vat covered, stat. Damp environs or not, I don't want to have to chip away at a hardened surface of Balcoat if it dries on top like a pudding skin. "Hey all. I need a large plastic sheet? Or a thick tarp?" I called out, thankfully catching the ears of a couple mooks. "We've got to keep the vat covered when not in use, or the Balcoat could harden." This spurred the two goons into motion, quickly returning with an old waterproof tarp, perfect. I helped them stretch it over top of the five-foot wide vat and pressed cinderblocks around it to hold it on. "Thank you."

"No prob boss." One of the two gangers replied as he fought through shakes, and I waved them off before deciding that since a several hundred gallon vat of the coating was done, I could examine my costume. I'd almost forgot I was wearing it despite that I literally was wearing three masks.

I wandered around the fishery, looking for a bathroom with a working toilet since I just realized I hadn't gone for several hours. It was easier than finding an intact mirror though. Apparently when you're freaking out on a bad trip, mirrors are one of the first things to be broken. I had to resort to hunting down Squealer in her motor pool, elbows deep in a van's engine. Thankfully she had a personal mirror she kept in her room, where she did not do anything more intense than smoke weed since it was where she kept her stuff.

I have to admit, that Squealer did piece together a rather interesting costume for me.

I'm keeping Howard's coat, I'll apologize later. The gloves would need some paint however, I disliked how the brown fake leather stood out. The hoodie was also a keeper, the Benjamin money-print was eye-catching and definitive, I also appreciated how the veil acted as an extra layer over my face. Finally was the mask itself. Squealer had grabbed a cheap plastic plague doctor's mask, the sort doctors in Europe wore during and after the black plague.

Well now, Gladly actually taught me something, even if it was because the warlord Black Death in Africa wears an actual plague doctor outfit and can spontaneously simulate various illnesses in their most severe cases within an arbitrary radius. But he's an ocean away overseeing a third-world dystopian country, I'm sure he won't care I've got his mask.

Actually...hm. I always did want to try my hand at smithing. I'll ask Squealer if she has a forge I can borrow. My decision made, I leave her room to pester her some more, finding she was now warily looking at a gas can and the van. "Squealer."

"Hey Deal. You sure this is safe for my rigs? I mean, I get it's biodiesel, and my rides should take it just fine, but it won't gum anything up will it?" Squealer asked, and I looked at the canister.

"That's not the source can is it?" I had to be sure, since that one would definitely ruin her van. I had an overflow system set up in my lab to literally suck out the fuel once it got high enough and couldn't possibly pull the colony from the top of it once it drained enough.

"No, I've had some guys rotating on it, putting more scrap plant matter in it after switching the drip can. It's impressive, produces five gallons of gas in five hours from five pounds of plants. That ratio is really off, I don't get where it's getting the extra mass." Squealer commented as she started fueling the van.

"If I ever figure out the full intricacies of my powers, I'll inform you." I didn't get that either, my power just told me it works, and it will work every time I am the one to try it. "Anyhow, do you have a forge?"

"Of course. I've gotta forge some raw materials for more custom parts I can't just modify from existing stuff. Thankfully my powers rarely need me to make something from scratch." Squealer admitted before nodding her head toward a corner of her workshop. "It's over there."

"Thanks." I replied as I moved to where she indicated, and indeed there was a homemade forge pieced together and made from unconventional materials. The anvil was just an ancient sliced section of train track staked into a stump that had been cut and put here, the forge itself was some sort of electric coil thing? I will have to ask about that since it seemed to be a product of Trainwreck's. But what I needed most, which was the crucible, was a cut-in-half fire hydrant and it's kiln was a cement-filled huge ceramic plant pot with a hole on the side that had an electric leaf blower shoved into it.

No sand, hm, I need a paint bucket of sand, a little spray paint, and some rubbing alcohol, or something really flammable...like my Balcoat. I asked Squealer if we had the paint and sand available. She said she always had random cans of spray paint around since as a gang, they tag, of course, but also because she liked to detail her rigs sometimes.

As for the sand, Squealer sent a runner to the docks with a bucket when I said I need wet sand. While that was happening, I journeyed through the fishery and bothered as many people as I could for any soda or beer cans, got about a trashbag full, more than enough for my needs. Thankfully the sand had arrived by the time I got back to the forge, and it was still damp, but not soaked, perfect.

My power was completely useless here. Thankfully I had loved watching DIY and How It's Made videos in Mrs. Knott's class after finishing assignments. Of course I had to have the sound muted and closed captions on. That said, this was a chance to apply my knowledge. Oh wait, spray paint, and some Balcoat mixed in a small pail. There, time to get started.

I fired up the kiln by passing a blowtorch over the coals. it was using charcoal briquettes as the fuel, so it would definitely burn hot enough with the leaf blower exciting and feeding the flames around the crucible. Once I was sure it was hot enough, I started feeding it crushed soda and beer cans. While I waited for it to melt them, I took off my mask, as well as belatedly taking off my coat and hoodie, it was hot. I still left my ski mask on though.

I went to the bucket of sand, and carefully pressed my mask beak-first into it. Slowly compressing the loamy sand around it until it was flush and the whole bucket was compressed enough that some water squeezed up to the top. I let it hold for a few moments, and then slowly removed the mask. It left a perfect imprint of the mask in the grey sand, and I quickly picked up my brush from the small paint pail holding a mixture of black spray paint and Balcoat. I washed it down the compressed sand with quick brushes with the soft bristle paintbrush.

Then, before it could ruin the mold, I took the blowtorch and lit the black Balcoat coating on fire. It rapidly lit up, burning down into the mold and glassing the sand, as well as reinforcing the mold due to the flash-fire activating the Balcoat seconds before it burned off. That thing was probably as strong as ceramic right now. I then cut the cheap strap off the hooks on the sides of the mask, and coated it in the black Balcoat, setting it near the kiln on newspaper to speed up it's drying cycle.

I fed the crucible and kiln a bit more, and soon I had an extinguisher's worth of liquid aluminum, the disgusting slag from the labeling and whatnot floating on top. Thankfully that would stay there even as I pour it if I took it slow, thank you backyard smith. I used a pair of tongs to fish the crucible out, and carried it the few feet over to the cast.

I poured it in steadily, letting it fill the mold halfway before I stopped and put the crucible back in the kiln to keep it molten. I quickly used the tongs to grab my mask, and hurriedly plunged it into the metal in the same direction as the mold. This ignited the hardened Balcoat on the mask, but I finished shoving it into the mold which spread the aluminum up and over the edge of the mask, letting some drip in as the plastic began to warp slightly, but the Balcoat had done it's job and the plastic held for the most part, bubbling and oozing in places, especially through the mesh lenses which were melted through, but that didn't matter.

What did, was that once I released it, I just had to let it set. I used a rusty cupcake pan to make ingots of the rest of the aluminum for either later use or recycling. I then went to my lab in the other end of the motor pool, finding the former office and locating my paint can of Clear Coat. I need to make more of this, where is that mook with the belly button lint for this? Bah, don't need him now, I can just-no. Later.

I took the sealed paint can of invisible paint with me to the forge, and stirred the black Balcoat to keep it liquid as I waited. After about ten or so minutes, I figured according to my knowledge the aluminum should have hardened enough to keep it's shape even with the plastic. I looked in and saw the drops of aluminum had stopped moving toward the beak, so I dumped the bucket on the floor, I'll just sweep it back into the bucket after this.

I brushed the sand away, and I would've smiled if I could at the sight of my new mask, even if it still wasn't done. In it's current stage, it was a solid glassy black rendition of my formerly cheap mask, but I had more work to do, especially since it was rough-edged, had no way to see out of, and lost the strap hook holes when the aluminum sealed them.

I asked Squealer if she had any short rubber lashing straps, and some rubber I could cut into strips. She was interested in what I was doing by this point since I kept asking for more materials, and when she saw my mask she Squealed in excitement, gladly providing a short rubber lashing strap for me to replace the original strap, and a piece of tire that she had laying around.

I had to punch holes in the sides near the back with a hammer and awl for me to hook the new strap into, then I hammered the hooks as flat as I could without risking my mask. I then used shears to cut a long strip out of the tire, and ringed it around the inside edge of the mask, using the blowtorch to melt it on gradually, which took a while, and smelled terrible.

After that was done, I took my small can of black Balcoat, and liberally slathered it all over the mask, both outside and in, around the strap and everything. I hung it near the kiln with only a tiny point of metal touching the strap so it wouldn't have enough contact surface to bond. While I waited for it to dry, I took my hoodie, and decided to try something. I took the rest of the rubber and cut a sheet that would fit in the veil of the hood. I slathered the sheet on one side with Balcoat, and pressed it into the inside of the veil firmly, moving it to the floor and then taking a nearby cinderblock to keep it pressed.

The fact the bonding cohesion could act as a superior epoxy adhesive only just now came to me when hanging my mask, I'd better bring this up.

I checked on my mask, and it was dry. Not even a rifle would punch through this now, it'd need to be really high caliber to ignore it. With it reinforced, now it was time to make it viable as a mask. I opened my Clear coat, using a different brush, which turned invisible instantly, I liberally began brushing over the inside, making it perfectly see-thru from the inside. I closed the Clear Coat and looked at my finished mask. Well, almost finished, it'd be impossible to breathe in the thing.

Thankfully, one of the ideas I'd had recently was to remake my air-eating, hm...Air-No bacteria, and an inverse, one that converts carbon dioxide into oxygen, I'll call it Air-Yes. But for the sake of both, considering they're meant to either choke or supply air, I'll use some mint leaves as the plant basis for the bacteria culture. Which I...don't think we...asking Squealer. Apparently yes, oddly. Some of the more laid-back members actually love to sniff spearmint leaves while smoking hash. Won't comment since it means I can make my bacteria immediately.

Of course, considering the volatile and dangerous nature of the Air-No, I'll have to confine it to a vacuum sealed container somehow. Or at least a compressed...one. Do we have empty spray cans? Yes, we do. Hard part will be getting it in them. No, it won't, some of the guys who tag actually have some tools they stole from an auto shop for filling empty spray cans.

Is it just me, or do the Merchants really have a lot of convenient random useful tidbits all over the place? Aside from the sand, I haven't had to get anything from outside of the fishery to work on my projects so far. I put Clear Coat on the inside of the veil's rubber panel, and put the rest of my costume back on save the mask since I was about to finish it in my lab.

I made the Air-Yes first, since I could leave it just about anywhere and just make it so much easier to breath. I took the first rag of the amazing air-giving bacteria and stuffed it into the beak of my mask. So long as it didn't dry out fully, and didn't get direct sun exposure for more than a minute, I had limitless oxygen. I put my new, heavier mask on over my ski mask so I had extra padding between my face and the rubber, the weighted veil settling against my mask's goggles closely, leaving the beak to protrude out under it.

I wish I could feel right now. I bet this would feel so right, so complete.

The minty air was refreshing, I won't kid, and my own breath would both keep it moist and constantly supplying me air. With my one-piece oxygen mask on, I then made my Air-No, warning everyone to stay out of my lab if they don't want to suffocate beforehand. It was tricky, making the bacteria spread across a good portion of the rag, and then, cutting the wet rag, which was rather difficult since it was stronger wet, into really tiny squares.

Then, using the tools the taggers supplied me, I carefully inserted several scraps of the bacteria-laden rag into the bottom of the empty spray paint can, then I injected the butane, which thankfully wouldn't hurt the cultures despite the pressure. My powers are weird. Once that was done, and the whole small section of rag was in the can with the propellant, I sealed the can back up, and gave it a vigorous shake, hearing the satisfying clack of the hollow ball in the can.

I sealed the rest of the cut up rag into an empty paint can and sealed it, then cleaned my worktable with store-grade disinfectant. Once I was sure any traces of the Air-No was gone, I took off my mask, and with a short breath held, sprayed the air with the can of Air-No. I let out my breath, and promptly began choking when my lungs registered I had no oxygen to breath. I quickly grabbed my mask back up, gasping the minty air thankfully.

With this, I don't even have to really put in any effort for a fight. Just one spray, and everyone around me is down, or possibly dead if they don't have air tanks, while I just casually go about my business.

I guess I could say I'm quite breathtaking...

I wish my emotions were still here, I would be laughing so hard at how bad that was….


	7. Chapter 6

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Catalyst 1.6**_

[Sunday, October 17, 2010]

"Wake the fuck up fatass!" I jolted to getting kicked in the gut while still in my sleeping bag in my lab, groggily groaning. "I need you to get started on some epic shit! You going all forgemaster and the inspiration I got yesterday has given me ideas!" Oh, great, it's Skidmark.

"What ideas?" I dryly asked as I sat up, only wearing my shirt and pants with my ski mask since it was bitingly cold in the fishery at night and in the bag it was too warm to wear more layers. I remember why I'm here now, I was too tired at the time of night I finished my tinkering that I didn't bother getting a ride home, so I ended up having a sleeping bag tossed at me.

"For special forces!" Skidmark gushed, squatting down and pointing at some crude drawings on a piece of paper, grinning like an excited man-child. "Since we've got you now, if you, Trainwreck, and Squeals all work together, the Merchants can fuckin' bulldoze the other gangs out of the city!"

"I can see that as a possibility. What have you got for me?" I drawled, taking the paper to look at it. The first one, the 'Jeepers' looked a lot like my costume, only armored and less decorative. Then the 'Creepers' looked like wavy skinny onesie suited guys with helmets, rubber tire armor in places, and a hook gauntlet thing on the left arm. Lastly, the 'Peepers' had a large question mark, and more writing than drawing about the concept.

The Jeepers were supposed to be open-field troops, Creepers stealth troops, and the Peepers were supposed to be snipers and scouts. "You listened to Jeepers Creepers all night while you were high didn't you?"

"Fuck yeah! Trippy shit! But then I got this in my head after Squeals told me about you workin' her forge. With you and Train alone this could happen! I already called Train, get your ass up!" Skidmark grabbed under my right armpit and impatiently hauled me up, before cackling and almost skipping out of my lab.

The hell did he smoke? Must be good stock.

[Pick Your Poison]

"This is pretty cool." Trainwreck commented as he read over the crumpled paper that Skid left with me. Skidmark was rousing the crew, getting them sorted and figuring out who to pick for what group, and told Mush to help him get as many bruisers as he could for the Jeepers.

"Considering we have a bit of an artist here, it'll be more than cool." Squealer complimented me from her seat next to my workbench. I was now wearing my full costume as I mixed up some more Clear Coat on the other side of said workstation.

"I'm not doing anything fancy. Once I get the first one done, any mook with skills in handicrafts could take it from there." I informed, watching the mixture of various bacteria cultures and clear plant-based lacquer start to turn the inside of the paint bucket invisible. I needed several more gallons of this if the Creeper division was going to be a reality. Why did we have lacquer? It was here, for some reason, just collecting dust in a storeroom. We have too much random stuff.

"As for the armor pieces that's easily up my alley. Doesn't take a Tinker to shape metals, cut rubber, and forge meathooks." Trainwreck informed casually. "But for the Creepers, how can they even put the suits on if the suits are invisible?"

"I forgot to mention the flaw didn't I?" I asked rhetorically, picking up a small Halloween blacklight, and turned it on. The new Clear Coat instantly washed out into an opaque white, like it was just white paint. "Clear Coat let's most spectrums of light right through it. Blacklight which catches white wavelengths and magnifies them turns it opaque. So the Creepers will have to use blacklight lamps to put on and take off their outfits."

"That's actually damn useful. But, now that I know, I'd better make sure I have stronger lights ready to flood the solid steel panes I'm starting to replace the windows of my rigs with to use this stuff on." Squealer considered, and I hummed in recognition of her idea. It was a great idea to be fair. "Also, we're going to need even more of that stuff, and that Balcoat. I'm going to be reinforcing all my rides."

"Tell the crew to get the ingredients, and I'll keep up supply. But considering the Balcoat needs Coca to work, I don't think we'll be able to afford to make cocaine too." I replied, putting a lid on the former lacquer bucket, pulling the next one over as I prepared to measure the sawdust that had the mix of bacteria that I gathered from numerous belly buttons. The human belly button was such a ripe breeding ground for amazing bacteria. Most of them scientists don't even have names for.

"I don't think that will be much of a problem. We mostly just have cocaine and the ingredients on hand because it's been such a staple, but in spite of it, sales are abysmal. People want meth, not coke." Squealer huffed. "So Skids likely won't even care, probably even buy more supply just to keep the Balcoat flowing."

"About that, any more talk on my idea of selling Balcoat clothing?" I asked, stirring the mix slowly to avoid spilling, again watching the slow reaction of the clear liquid starting to turn the inside of the bucket clear as well. Hm, I might keep this former broom handle I'm stirring with on hand for this, it'd be interesting to have a good bit of things invisible, but I'd rather not have to find a new stick to stir with every time.

"Honestly, no. It'll likely come up once Balcoat has completely replaced coke as a product, but until then I don't think Skids even cares about money so much as sticking it to the other gangs." Squealer shrugged. "But even then, we'll be raiding their own stashes, stealing their caches, gaining turf, even if just superficially. We're rolling out for a full-on gang war." Squealer sighed, clearly not at ease with the idea.

"Not up for a major move?" Trainwreck asked curiously, I, meanwhile, didn't care. Couldn't care to be fair. I just make the product, not like I'm going to be the one shooting some idiot ganger. Is that cold? Whatever.

"No, to be honest. We've got the numbers, we've got awesome shit. But we're still strung out, still fragmented. I try my best, but even with my organization skills things still get fucked up because some scab couldn't wait for his next hit, or a mook gets completely useless because they're so banged up from withdrawal or being high in the middle of something important." Squealer complained, sighing. "Sometimes, I fucking wish we could just curb the habits."

"I could do that for you." I commented idly, finishing the...was that bucket seven? Yes, so far I have about 35 gallons of Clear Coat here, aside from my one gallon of personal stash. "But I'll need at least one test subject, preferably an addict, one so far gone they probably won't be missed if they die. That way, if I succeed, not only will it prove a point, but it will also provide a new able body if they stick around."

They were both looking at me in silence, Squealer having the advantage of a face looked shocked I think, so I could only suppose that Trainwreck was in the same state. "You can Biotinker?" Train asked in what I believe was a grave tone.

"If altering microbiological processes to manipulate living tissue is what you call Biotinkering, then yes. But it's limited. I can only cause a reaction from a catalyst so to speak. I'm not Bonesaw or Nilbog, or even Blasto. The things my power is feeding me suggest that compounding treatments on top of another would yield benefits, but more risk of drawbacks. It would have to be a longer ordeal than just a magic potion. You'd have to pick your poison so to speak." I explained vaguely, since until I set myself to it, my power would only hint, poke, prod at the concept, like it was egging my curiosity on.

Was it like this for all Tinkers? This insistence to explore possibility?

"I...think I could...arrange that." Squealer hesitantly supplied with a waver in her voice. "There's plenty of drug whores, far worse off than me. I could easily pick one out and...give her to you." Squealer offered.

"That would be best. I can't use anyone in good condition like you Squealer, the effects wouldn't be pronounced enough for me to work off of." I informed, before reaching for the next bucket, and realizing I had run out. Only 35 gallons? Well, the suits wouldn't absorb too much, since I'd be using the spandex bodysuits for the Creepers. Actually, I think I'll do that for myself, under all the clothing. Make it impossible for any identifying features to be seen. Also if I have to cut and run from a situation, I could just strip off the rest of my costume and bail.

"That's some scary shit regardless. Let's try to keep this quiet as long as possible. Bad enough you likely broke the leg of a Ward on your first night out, but if they find out you're a Biotinker they'll hunt you down." The fact that included the rest of the gang went unsaid by Trainwreck, who then looked at the paper again. "But what the hell are we going to do for the Peepers? The closest thing I can compare these notes to would be a combination of sniping, and a camera like Uber and Leet have."

"I...might be able to handle the Peepers? It'll be something I've been fantasizing about lately, I wanna try to make it, but I'll need at least a boat from the ship graveyard." Squealer informed, getting Train and I to look at her. "Not a big one, not for the test rig. I don't really get how it will work, but once I have a working prototype my power tends to latch onto it and it's easy to replicate, alter, and improve."

"Well if you just need a small boat, I'm sure I could manage to get a small speedboat cut in half and shipped in by cargo vans, but that'll be noisy, and the last time I got too active in the graveyard Triumph decided to...protest." Train grumbled, and I remembered that Triumph was a recent addition to the local Protectorate, having graduated from the local Wards team. Considering his power was the amplification and probably manipulation of sound, it made sense that against Train, and especially in a place full of resonant sources as the ship graveyard, Triumph had a huge advantage. "But I'll get it for ya."

"That is all well and good, but could we get started? The sooner the first sets of outfits are done, the sooner we can dump the work on a minion, and the sooner I can get started on more projects." Oh, wait, I forgot to call mom last night, great. It's...only 5:40, she should have to get up in twenty minutes anyway, I'll call her then so I'm not interrupting her sleep too soon.

[Pick Your Poison]

I looked at the first completed outfits of the Jeepers and Creepers, the Peepers would have to wait until they at least had whatever Squealer was thinking of making. I wish I could feel pride, because not only was this really easy, but it was really efficient.

The Jeepers would wear a blue hooded overcoat, jeans, cheap work gloves, and a plain T-shirt. All liberally soaked with Balcoat and carefully dried of course. Then they got some scrap armor for their biceps, forearms, chest, and thighs. Made by Trainwreck with proper clasps and coated with Balcoat. Finally, they got a gasmask made out of a large plastic bottle usually used for gallons of juice. Just cut out a section for the face, make straps, cover the edges with duct tape and rubber, paint the outside a solid random color, the inside with Clear Coat, and then Balcoat it all.

The fact it works thanks to the Balcoat securing the lid and putting Air-Yes in the lids was just perfect. With outfits like these, the Jeepers would need fear only three things outright: Parahumans, high-caliber ballistics, and fire. I have stressed Balcoat's fire hazard extensively, I just vainly hope that none of these idiots will earn the Darwin Award lighting up a hit and catching their clothes, and them, on fire. I've seriously got to get a source of fiberglass that Squealer isn't hoarding protectively.

The Creeper costumes were trickier. Firstly I had to figure out how we were going to reinforce the spandex suits with tire rubber. Thankfully Squealer, being the vehicle expert here, was more than handy at telling us what sort of tires would be best, and how to cut them without the reinforcement bands snapping and hurting or killing us. I'm lucky she already had scraps of tires for my mask and the Jeeper's masks.

Once we got the tire 'plates' done, we got to work using Balcoat to bond them to the suits. Thankfully the helmets for them were just as easy as the Jeeper's, only instead of a large bottle, we used an old paint bucket we just wrapped in rubber and sealed with Balcoat, using the original handle holes for a chin strap.

Once that was all done, Train and I fed the left arm into a meathook gauntlet he forged, using my arm to form the spandex to it. We then sealed it together with Balcoat. Once that dried, I took my arm out, and we dunked everything in Balcoat. Then after that dried, we dunked it wholesale in Clear Coat. It was good I prepared so much of both concoctions, at this rate I'll need to make even more.

With a Halloween blacklight, it was easy to see where the Creeper suit was. The fact anyone wearing it would be completely invisible was impressive. Huh, governments the world over have bled and killed for technology to accomplish what I just made in a blur. I can see why tinkers are so sought after.

"So with this, the first suits are done. You were paying attention, right?" I asked a couple of the crew who had been watching, a couple of women really. They nodded in understanding, their faces pale, their bodies emaciated, but their eyes focused even if their bodies shook. "Then you can make them, it's fairly simple."

"I was a hand at crafts in school, I think I got it so long as I don't gotta make no metal things." The one on the left said, her shakier companion nodding fervently, clearly on edge and wanting to do anything to distract from her withdrawal.

"That's my job. I'll be making the Jeeper's armor and the Creeper's hooks, you two just get working. Dealer, you go get started on your next thing. Scary as it is, if it works…." Trainwreck hinted as he was looking at the two addicted women, who despite their willingness, were shaky and distracted. "Take it slow, I don't want either of you losing a finger."

"Thank you, I will go and see Squealer then." He was right, this had to be dealt with sooner rather than later. Perhaps, if I can even manage to get Skidmark cured of his addictions...hm, that would be interesting to see. I found Squealer, nervously looking into her room. "Squealer."

"Well...I found a perfect candidate for you." Squealer worriedly informed me, nodding her head at the door. I looked. She was...pathetic.

The poor woman, perhaps even teenager, was skin and bones. Her dark skin was so light a pallor it was like she had powder all over her. Her hair was gone, shaved off or lost to addiction I could not tell, but her lips were chapped, cracked, bleeding. Her nails bitten down to nubs, also cracked and bleeding from her gnawing. Her teeth were worse than Skidmark's. Lastly, her eyes were practically dead. Glazed over, they belonged on a corpse, not on a living person.

"How is she even alive?" I asked Squealer, intrigued by the young woman's impressive survivability if not even this level of deterioration had killed her yet.

"No clue, it's why I picked her out of the whores. She was obviously the next in line to die, so I figured, if she's going to die soon...might as well either give her a way out, or...give her a way out." Squealer reasoned, clearly disturbed by the young woman. "That...that could be me, in a week...a month...a year?" She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. "Please...help us." She pleaded to me, desperation in her eyes.

"I already planned to." I informed sincerely, and she...hugged me. She was pressing her bosom into my face, or, was it my face into her bosom? I am unsure, but it was comfortable, and I patted her on the back. "Do not worry, it will work, eventually."

"I hope it works the first time." Squealer said seriously as she released me. "I'll keep her in here, I'll sleep elsewhere. You'll have to come and give her whatever it is you're going to give her, I can't let a...victim, this bad just lay out in the cold." Squealer told me, and I nodded, turning towards the direction of my lab and moving with haste. I had thought Squealer desensitized to the cruelty of her profession, clearly I had been mistaken.

I entered my lab, cleared the space I'd been working on earlier, and dodged a mook carrying a fresh canister of biodiesel out. I've got to move that fuel farm into Squealer's motor pool, it was getting inconvenient.

That out of the way, I looked over the large quantity of materials my lab had been stocked with while I was out yesterday. Apparently, Skidmark had seen to have some of the crew load up my lab's material shelves and bins with various substances, from drugs, likely low-grade if they're willing to just hand it over, to likely stolen medical supplies.

But despite this, i did not have what I needed. My power told me there was an easy resource for the initial bacterium I needed, just not in my lab. I walked fast with purpose, searching the fishery until I found my man. "Mush." The man had been languishing in a pile of trash off in a far corner of the hideout, watching a static-ridden TV using an antennae.

"Yo~...what's up?" Oh, he's high. This might be easy, or difficult.

"I need you to let me pick some dirt from behind your ears." The crease behind the ears was a common place on the human body for dirt and bacteria to congregate, even with regular cleaning. They were like two extra belly buttons, only slightly more limited. But Mush, who never bathes or showers? That limit was gone, only reason I'm not asking for his belly button lint is because I'm not at that stage yet.

"The fu~ck? Whatev's man, could ya just get on? I'm watchin' Scooby Doo." I looked at the TV...that was not Scooby Doo. It was nothing like Scooby Doo….

"I'll be brief." I took out a rag, fairly clean, I had even used some alcohol to clean it and then rinsed it out with bottled spring water. I moved Mush's ragged hood off of his head, not caring for his ratty cloth mask as I rubbed behind his ears. The drugged man giggled and fidgeted, despite my demands he remain still, if I got too much bacteria from other places on the rag, the sample would be useless.

Once there was a long notable straight smear of dirt on the rag, I finished up and left the giggling imp. I hurried to the lab, dodging busy members of the crew, almost ignoring a large group gathered at a stage that Skidmark was standing atop, but I had to pause as Skidmark seemed to be finishing off a speech.

"-And so, you fucking shitheads get to finally do something useful! By Wednesday, we're gonna knock over one of the ABB's caches! We're gonna ream those fucks out and take back what they destroyed Friday and then some!" Skidmark paused, getting cheers from the crew as I looked on, the rag held away from anything to keep the bacteria safe. "But that's just the beginning! Once we do that, the other fuckers will notice we're not just gutter rats anymore! We're the fucking plague! And we're gonna sweep this shitty ass city and fuck it's pussy so hard we make it our whore forever!"

Skidmark's declaration got even more roaring cheers, and I looked on, contemplative. This was all my fault, wasn't it? The Merchant's would never have gotten this bold, this active if I hadn't Triggered, if I hadn't practically given them the keys to an armory….

...Damn…how can I fix this? I want the other gangs gone, but not with an aimless gang war….


	8. Chapter 7

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Catalyst 1.7**_

[Sunday, October 17, 2010]

I looked at the small plastic-wrap sealed glass. It was so tiny, so small, barely more than four ounces of the amber-colored serum. This was all I could get out of the culture from Mush? As potent as it was thankfully, I didn't have to use it all up at once, but I didn't even know how much was needed for it to work. Regardless, my power told me this would work, that it would reset the brain's chemical synapses to default, that it would effectively cure all mental and most physical symptoms of addiction. However it could not be orally ingested.

I do not have any clean hypodermic needles, I cannot even administer this without a needle. Even then, I'm no addict, my first-aid classes in late middle school did not cover anything beyond setting broken bones, stitching flesh wounds, treating burns, and where to stab an epipen in case of an allergic reaction. That, along with the fact that I did not trust that a single needle in this fishery was clean. They even reused them without proper sterilization, the fools.

Is this frustration? Am I getting angry? Of course, power, of course. Don't let me feel joy, pride, or anything like that, but let me feel anger when something is between me and my tinkering?!

I need help, not just to get this project on with, but to keep me in check whenever something like a shortage of resources sets me off. Where's Rahj? And Howard? I could use their companionship right now. I need some capable minions. I need resources….

I stalked through the fishery, demanding mooks for the whereabouts of Rahj and Howard. I found Rahj sleeping. I shook him awake, told him to help me find Howard. Then we found Howard smoking opium just outside the back door which was basically the front door now. I snagged him and told him we were going somewhere.

"Where?" Howard asked, his eyes bloodshot and his attention shoddy, something that would pass fairly quick if I remembered my DARE seminars on drug use in school correctly. He wouldn't be fully lucid for about an hour at the least, but he was still more there than most folks here.

"Wherever I can get a large number of clean hypodermic needles and syringes, a lot of organic substances, and maybe a standard chemistry setup. It's been hell to fudge together something with mugs, shot glasses and a nearly empty propane camping stove burner." I informed as we neared the motor pool, moving towards the sign-in/out desk. "We're taking a van on a milk run." I informed the woman who was drowsily dozing on the desk.

"Mmph...sign-out…." She blearily pointed to the rusty and moldy clipboard, and I hastily used the pencil to sign out a van under my name, and we moved to the nearest one to the ajar bay doors. They were left open, but Squealer had long ago managed to rig one of her first stealth vans to the door. It was tricky, she had to keep the van ready to detach and move for it to work for some reason, and so long as the battery was charged by the alternator, which was easy considering it was a van, the doors were always silencing sound, and a distortion made casual inspection see nothing but darkness inside.

So it made sense why nobody ever figured out the old Brockton Fishery was the Merchant's HQ, aside from the back door which was tucked in a tight alleyway, nobody ever entered or left visibly. Rahj got in the driver's seat, I was shotgun, and Howard was laying across the first bench seat, riding out his drugged state. "So why do you need clean needles?" Rahj asked as he drove us out of the motor pool, onto the pothole-pockmarked back street it led to.

"I am working on a cure for addiction. It cannot be ingested orally, anally, ocularly, etcetera. It needs to be taken intravenously for it to reach the brain and work it's magic." Technically, ocularly would be viable, but it would also cause progressive blindness that way, so that defeated the purpose of it being to heal.

"Whoa, wait. You mean you could get us off our habits?" Howard bolted upright, looking at me in shock.

"That's the idea. I want to get the Merchants running smoothly. We're barely a cobbled band of misfits as it stands." I replied, trying to remember a good place to get what I needed without it being a clinic or hospital, those were 'safe' zones, nobody was to mess with them, not since Marquis expressed incredible violence on any who did, and it was something that all the gangs since have respected. Oh, another thing Gladly has taught me. Is he actually doing his job to some degree?

"Well, for that stuff, closest thing we can hit up without riling the other gangs would be a pharmacy, not unusual for us to rob one, but we usually have a whole bunch of guys for a run like that, wanna head back and grab more guys?" Rahj asked casually, and I shook my head, tapping my Air-No in my coat pocket.

"Got it covered. So long as we're not dealing with firefighters off the bat, we should be fine." And, so long as I just do a quick puff of this, I won't have to worry about the bacteria traces in the air being powerful enough to outright strip everything in the area of oxygen, especially since it's still day out and places like that have lights anyway. "But if you see me pull out my spray can, keep a good distance away from me."

"Got it Dealer." Rahj affirmed as he guided the van through the empty backstreets of the slums. Nobody actually drove through this area, the potholes a deterrent to anyone not driving an ATV Tinker rig. "You got that Howard?

"I'm high, not stupid. Yeah, if he takes out a spray can, stay away. So, the syringes aside, anything specific we should nab while we're there?" Howard asked, laying back down so the bouncing of the van bothered him less.

"Anything organic. Health supplements derived from plants would be best, also if you see any probiotics, grab them. Protein derived from whey, grab that too, going to need a lot of it for my test subject." Hm, those would be especially useful, if I...hm, later, I still need to see if my prototype version of Addictol will work. "Now that I think of it, I could use some manure and mushroom spores of various mushroom species, but that's for another time."

"Geez, you sound like you want to make LSD." Rahj joked, and I managed to shrug in response. "Keep that up, doing good." Rahj encouraged me, and I nodded.

"I still have school tomorrow, I need to at least be able to feign normalcy...great, I just remembered I have an essay to write for my World Issues class. At least it isn't the first period, I can probably get away with writing it during other classes, since it was just another 'pick a Parahuman and write about them' assignment. But who to pick, after all, I've already written about my favorites." I rambled, trying to fill the time with chatter. I may not feel emotions...outside hard-to-justify anger and irritation anyway, but I figure these two need some chatter, they're going into a potentially dangerous situation with just me, a kid in their eyes.

Well to be fair I'm still just 14. Six feet tall and 333 pounds or not, I'm still not a grown man. My father was 7 feet tall, I expect I still have some more growing to do.

"Who are your favorites? Mine's Cadejo." Howard informed, getting Rahj to raise an eyebrow back at him for an instant before focusing on the road. "What? He's fucking badass."

"He's also murdered several heroes in cold blood and the Protectorate still can't figure out a way through his Changer-slash-Breaker state." Rahj grumbled. "Sorry, but child murderers aren't on my good side." Rahj muttered, whoever this Cadejo is, I think I need to research him. I hope he isn't in the Bay, we have enough problems. "Mine's actually Mouse Protector. That gal is hysterical, also her grey mouse armor does not hide much of her body."

"Dude, she's like, 26. You're what, 36?" Howard asked rhetorically.

"I'm 31 asshat! I can still look at twenty-somethings!" Rahj defended, getting himself and Howard to laugh at what was obviously a running joke between them.

"Huh, she's my favorite too. Even without emotions, I admire her ability to ham it up in the middle of combat. It takes a true thespian to maintain such an image in trying circumstances." I informed Rahj. "However, I still need to pick someone, it doesn't have to be a hero either."

"Why not Squealer?" Howard asked, and I considered it.

"Well, not much is actually publically known about Squealer. If I write an essay about her, I would have to make constant false references that would obviously out me as a member of the Merchants anyway." I shrugged with a shake of my head, Rahj smiling at me told me I was doing the right thing.

"Well, you can figure it out later Dealer, we're here." Rahj stated, pulling the van behind a franchise pharmacy, parking with the right side doors facing the back door of the place in the alley. Uh-oh, I better not fudge anything up, I have no clue what part of town we're in. "So, how're we doing this? The back door has a magnetic lock, and invisible or not, I don't want to park the van on the side or front."

"Then you'll be staying here Rahj, ready to take off. Howard and I will round the building and enter in the front. I'll make a show, get any customers to leave, and hold up the pharmacist for the syringes and needles. Howard, grab one of those hand baskets and load it with at least four jars of whey protein, and then shovel as much probiotic into it you can. Once you've got that, beat it out the back door, and wait for me in the van." I ordered, and the two nodded in confirmation.

I got out, Howard opening the side door to exit but unlike my closing the passenger door, he left the side door open so we could bolt in. I casually strode out into the late afternoon sunlight out onto the sidewalk, Howard having put on a ski mask before joining me. People instantly realized who we were, and seeing our masks, promptly evacuated to minimum safe distance of however-far-they-felt-was-safe, and took out their phones to record.

"I have to wonder at the intelligence quotient of the average Brockonite." I drawled as we rounded the side of the pharmacy, strolling in.

"Oh hell no! Get out!" Ordered the clerk, only to shut up when I promptly speed-walked towards him with purpose.

"Get me a box of syringes and matching hypodermic needles while my friend grabs what we need." I demanded flatly, the clerk still clearly resistant, until i grabbed his register podium, and with my weight as leverage, snapped the cheap register readout off the counter, a simple trick of weight and strength most average people can manage, but this scrawny cashier clearly thought otherwise, going pale.

"Y-yessir, right away sir." He nervously said as I saw him reaching under the counter, so I struck his offending arm with the hollow metal tube, getting him to cry out and hold his arm.

"No. Take me to the pharmacy, and get me the equipment." I could feel my anger simmering, clearly it seemed that if anything tried to get between me and what I needed, I was not going to be rational about it. I didn't have much time either, Howard would not need much time to get what I asked for, and the moment that emergency exit is opened, alarms will surely go off.

"Well now, I guess this isn't your average shopping trip." I turned quickly at the sudden new voice, and I looked at my unwanted audience. "Sorry pal, but I'm going to have to ask you to stop that and I probably won't break your arms for hitting the guy." She wore a white modern princess outfit, more like a white leotard with attached miniskirt than anything. She wore stylish white boots, and wore no mask, her long golden hair making her vibrant blue eyes stand out even more, the tiara on her head helped solidify who she was if her floating a few feet off the floor wasn't an indicator.

I just had to have the luck of encountering Glory Girl on a milk run.

"Sorry, but that isn't how it works. You turn your prissy rear around and fly off, or a bruised arm will be the least of the man's worries." I dryly replied, reaching into my coat pocket, and promptly pratfalled to the side out of the way of an aerial bullrush the hero made for me, overshooting and smashing into the wall behind the clerk, who yelped and scurried away, making me grit my teeth in fury that my power seemed to want me to feel at this very moment.

"Ugh, great! Now I've gotta explain another ruined wall to mom!" Glory Girl whined, actually had the gall to Whine. I found myself quite disliking this entitled princess, she clearly didn't-. "Wait...hold on. Money-print hoodie, blue coat, mask poking out under a veil...you, fucking, bastard!" She roared, and I rolled on the floor away from a flying kick that would've pulverized me, doing that instead to the tile and concrete under it. Balcoat or no, I wasn't chancing a hit from this bitch. Wow, vindictive, aren't you unwanted anger-? "You're the asshole who broke De-Gallant's leg!"

"Guilty as charged." I replied blandly, having rolled to my feet. Being shaped like a barrel had some advantages, it made falling and recovering from falls easier since I had a more rounded shape and the weight to throw momentum into motion. "That said, I don't care why you're upset, and I don't care about you being here. You're in the way. Leave, or pay the price to the Dealer."

There was a short awkward silence. "That bad?" I asked as I casually held my spray can to the side in a shrug, and she groaned.

"That. Was. Terrible. Worse than Clockblocker." GG commented, ready to rush me again.

"I'll take it as a compliment." I managed to snark in my deadpan, getting her to rush me again, and this time, I just fell backward, holding down the nozzle of the spray can as I barely fell under her rush again, but this time, she dropped like a sack of potatoes, skidded through several aisles of the small store's product like a cannonball, and smashed clean through the wall to the outside. I backrolled to my feet in just as much time as her rapid exit took, and I decided to check on her.

I jogged to the massive hole in the wall as the fire sprinklers kicked on for some reason, probably because she took out some of the systems, at least it meant my Air-No wouldn't be lingering too long. I looked out into the street, examining the trench she'd dug into the asphalt with her body, limp and clearly unconscious from getting a lungful of inert gas. "Sweet dreams, princess." I called out blandly, hopefully some of the shocked onlookers heard my parting words for Collateral Damage Barbie as I went back to the terrified clerk, aiming my Air-No at him. "Now, the needles and syringes."

[Pick Your Poison]

My power was happy, or at least, it had better be. The moment I had two big boxes full of sterile and sealed hypodermic needles with clean, unused syringes in my arms, I was no longer irritated at all. I held onto the wet plastic crates the whole ride back to the fishery. Rahj and Howard muttered quietly up front, but I was too busy envisioning all the avenues just having these needles gave me for future projects, and if the Addictol worked as it should, that would open a whole slew of possibilities.

When we got back, I got out of the van, only to be staring down Squealer who looked aghast at me. "What?"

"Glory Girl?" She asked incredulously, and I had to pause, even without emotion I was surprised at how fast word got out, which she obviously managed to notice. "PHO. I have some of the nerds of the crew troll it often for any local news. Imagine my surprise when our new cape not only robs a pharmacy for goddamn needles in broad daylight, but he takes out one of the city's heaviest hitting heroes without a scratch?" Squealer growls. "You Triggered not even Two Days Ago! And you've broken the leg of a Ward, and made Collateral Damage Barbie look like a total idiot in public!"

"I fail to see why this merits a confrontation. If you'll be so kind, I need to administer the Addictol to the subject. Hopefully, this will provide us with good news." I sidestepped her, and Squeals scoffed, before breaking out into laughter. How much of that was real and how much was just her putting on a show?

Regardless, this was the moment of truth. I placed the box carefully among the materials of my lab, and took a single needle from the smaller box. It had hundreds packed in there, I would be hard-pressed to use them all anytime soon, especially if I properly sterilized them for reuse. I screwed it onto a clean syringe from the other box, then took the sealed glass of Addictol, lamenting that I didn't have time to even see if the pharmacy had it's own chemistry lab before hightailing it out of there once sirens started approaching.

I crossed the motor pool to Squealer's room, and entered to see the pitiable young woman blindly staring off into the middle-distance, not having even eaten the sandwich someone, likely Squealer, had left on the nightstand for her. I set the glass down, and uncapped the needle of the syringe. I used a lighter from the nightstand to heat it for ensured sterilization, before carefully peeling an edge of the plastic back and drawing a few milliliters of the fluid into the small injection device.

I lifted it out of the bacterial solution and after aiming it upward squeezed just a tiny bit back out to ensure no air bubbles before I took it out and prepared to do the hard part. I took the poor girl's left arm, trying to find a place on her that wasn't covered in tracks from previous injections. In the end, I found enough vein in the back of her bicep for the task, which while harder, seemed to be the only option I could see besides her main artery in her neck, which was just stupid to even think of.

I carefully inserted the needle into her arm, and depressed the plunger firmly but slowly, until at least 5 milliliters were being carried through her bloodstream. I removed the needle carefully, and patted the injection site with some alcohol that was also on the nightstand, I think Squealer was ready for me.

While I waited to see results, I ate the sandwich, since it was already room temperature and this poor woman wasn't going to be able to stomach solid food for a while yet. I watched intently, over the course of a half hour, I saw her breathing steady, her eyes shift more intently than I'd seen before. Then, after that, she shivered, less from her withdrawal, and more from the cold. She pulled the blanket of the bed around her naked body, sitting up weakly, looking around before stopping on me with a shock.

"W-who're-*cough, cough, hack!*?" The girl, for her voice was not that of a woman, proceeded to hack her dry throat out, so I handed her the water bottle that was with the sandwich, and she chugged it in need, finishing with a gasp. "Th-thank you...who are you? Where am I?"

"I, am Dealer. You are?" I deflected, I needed her to compartmentalize right now, she could still be in shock and this was only a holdover, I had no clue how long Addictol lasted if it wasn't permanent.

"K...Kathleen." The young woman informed me. "W-what do you want with me?"

"...Kathleen. I have a proposition for you…."


	9. Interlude 1b

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Cleric**_

Her sister was sitting on the edge of a 20-storey apartment building's roof, face in her hands. "Y'know, feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to change what happened." Amelia Dallon, aka; Panacea, chided of her older sister. She was standing back from the edge with her robes wrapped snugly against the growing cold, while her sister was still wearing her white costume, unbothered by the cold from her forcefield.

"I know sis, it's just...I've never looked like such a bumbling idiot before this. It's all over PHO! Collateral Damage Barbie Street-Pizza! It's bad enough I completely destroyed several aisles of that store, and the wall, and the fire sprinkler system, but also half the street outside! It was all because whatever that. That. ASSHOLE sprayed in my face knocked me out!" Victoria Dallon, aka; Glory Girl bemoaned not for the first time tonight.

"Sis, we've been over this several times. You're lucky whatever he hit you with wore off so quickly. You would've suffocated." Amy reminded gently but firmly. "I can't fix you if you get in over your head." She tried to impress unto her sister, only to get a scoff in return.

"We both know that's bull sis. You could rebuild me from a slimy goop if that's what it came down to." Vicky snorted, affirmed in her new knowledge of her sister's powers, while Amy just sighed as she moved closer and sat next to her on the edge of the roof, the air fairly still tonight even this high up.

"That may be sis, but it wouldn't be you. It'd be a person just like you, who moves and maybe possibly thinks like you, but it wouldn't be you." Amy declared with a hug around her big sister's shoulders, the shapely blond sighing and leaning her head into her little sister's shoulder. "Y'know, I thought if it ever came out, you'd hate me." Amy changed the subject further, knowing to let her sister fume over her failings would get nowhere.

"What? That you could end the world with a leaf? Or that you wanna get me in bed?" Vicky teased, waggling her eyebrows as she looked up at her, making Amy snort in amusement. "Won't lie, I don't swing right field, but if there's anyone I'd put on that list if I do end up swinging that way I'd look no further."

"Stop teasing me and be serious." Amy withheld a chuckle. The past couple days since Dean had flipped the table on the situation were interesting to say the least. Once the cat was out of the bag regarding her feelings for Vicky, and how much her situation was sending her into a downward slide, Amy was beside herself with rage at Dean for daring to intrude on her life. Only for Vicky to defend him, and say she didn't care if Amy was attracted or not, saying it was only natural to be attracted to her hot sister.

It was such a VICKY thing to say, that she was caught flat-footed when Dean moved on to her relationships with her parents, the hospitals, herself. He highlighted all of the things that compounded into a crushing sense of hopelessness for her. Then he dropped the bomb on her powers, saying that if she did not get help, she would inevitably do something she could never forget or forgive herself for.

Dean was a shockingly good psychologist, despite coming across as oblivious most of the time in spite of his powers. Probably why the PRT had him responsible for her, on both accounts.

Thanks to his intervention, Amy now realized she needed help. Badly. She asked for a therapist from the PRT, a service that was always supposed to be up on offer even for independent heroes, and she had an appointment tomorrow afternoon with a Dr. Yamada. Who, suspiciously, was being brought into the Bay Just because she asked for therapy.

"I am being serious sis. I trust you." Vicky's words brought Amy back to the present, and she felt warm inside at her sister's continued faith in her. "I mean, you must know all kinds of things in bed, even if you're a virgin, so there's that too." Amy groaned at her sister's immature add-on.

"Sis, that just isn't fair." Referring to the fact that despite it being in the open, it was strictly look-don't-touch still. Or rather, Vicky was constantly being a tease now, constantly getting Amy riled and the impetuous blond seemed to enjoy the new form of torture she held over her little sister.

"I'm the Big sister, I don't have to be fair!" Vicky declared childishly, and she sighed at hearing their phones chirp again, both of them. "Mom again." Vicky grumbled, not wanting to face the music of their mother's lectures.

"It'll just keep getting worse if you don't show up sooner rather than later. Since it was clearly the villain's fault this time, I'm sure she won't ground you again." Amy urged her sister to answer her phone, and she reluctantly took it from her skirt pocket and answered, so Amy decided to tune out and look down and a ways down the street as well to see the PRT cordon around the wrecked pharmacy. Since Vicky hadn't been the one to actually cause the damage so much as be the instrument, the store could instead claim the villain responsible. Insurance companies would weep.

Amy just had to wonder what the future would bring now. It seemed bleak before, hopeless. Now, even without any therapy sessions in, she had no idea what would happen, but it wasn't going to be whatever dark road she was on before, she swore it.

"Ugh…." Her sister's groan got her to turn her attention back towards the golden-blond bombshell that was her adoptive sister who had clearly finished a brisk talk with their mother. "She's playing the whole 'you should think things through' angle again. I'm not in trouble but she's going to ask me to train with the family some more next weekend."

"She's right you know. He wouldn't have played you like some Spanish Bull if you didn't just rush in." Amy scolded, and Vicky moaned in despair at her sister so cruelly pointing out her flaws. Victory, one of the few things Amy could actually retaliate with.

"Great, now everyone's going to start calling me a cow or something." Vicky grumbled, hefting her sizable D-cup bosom for emphasis, making Amy blush. "Maybe I should get a reduction?"

"Absolutely not!" Amy declared, blushing brighter when she realized she fell right into her sister's trap once the beaming victorious smile spread on her face. "Ugh! You are such a cunttease!" Amy grit out as she shoved her nearly-impervious sister, only to push herself sideways and almost fall off the roof, just to be deftly scooped into a flying bridal carry, making her blush even more up at her viciously smirking sister. "Why?! Why did you finding out have to make it worse?!"

"Because it also makes all those terrible dark-web slash fics of me and you seem hilariously ironic." Vicky giggled as she began to fly them leisurely home towards Captain's Hill.

"It's You and I." Amy petulantly needled at her sister's grammar, seeing as anything else would probably get another sleazy retort. She especially wasn't going to comment on said slash fics...she'd wrote a few of them….

"Details! Fact is this opens up so many ways I can Big Sister you! Now I have to find GIRLS to date you!" Vicky crowed, making Amy glad they were too high up for any streetwalkers to hear them.

"Please no…." Amy pleaded in futility, feeling like her face was burning. All those awkward dates she'd been forced on with boys she wasn't even interested in were yet another horrible facet of her hopefully formerly fucked-up life. But if Vicky actually managed to find any girls who were interested, she didn't know what she would do, how to act. Her sister was easy, that was an established relationship, this would be someone just out of the blue and it both worried and embarrassed her.

"Amy, you've got a bod. You may be mousy, but you've got a nice chest and butt, and I bet if you let your hair grow out-."

"Oh god shut up!" Amy pulled her hood over her face with a groan, but smiled wearily at her beloved sister's constant antics. Amy knew she was attractive, it made things more awkward when she realized despite her baggy clothes boys were still looking.

Amy tuned out her sister for the rest of the flight, managing to bury herself under her own thoughts as her sister's Aura continuously hummed with adoration, a sensation she always craved, despite knowing it simulated addiction on a level akin to drugs like cocaine, meth, or heroin. But it was her Sister who made her feel this way, it wasn't anything that could be helped directly. Even if she was willing to mess with the brain at all, she couldn't affect herself, the biggest flaw of her powers.

So she just grew used to it, but thanks to Dean, she also realized it may have hijacked her sexuality. She didn't have much of a problem with that, but Vicky did. She may have joked about making it impossible for Amy to ever have any nieces or nephews to give her, but asking Dean quietly while her big sister was talking to Chris for a moment confirmed Vicky was destroyed at the thought of Mastering her little sister in any way.

Which was why, despite not wanting to, she had to interrupt it. If she just kept giving in, she was no different than a drug addict, and her sister an enabler. "Sis...your aura…." Amy managed to breathe out in the middle of another of her sister's nonsensical tirades, and the sensation of adoration and awe just vanished, making her shiver, shudder, gasp. It was astoundingly painful to just have it ripped away instead of letting it fade off gradually.

"Oh god Ames I am so sorry! I-I'll try harder to pay attention." Vicky distraughtly swore, lowering down towards the ground since they'd already reached Captain's Hill, and the Dallon Residence was just below. She gently set Amy down on the lush green front lawn, thankfully at this time of evening people were indoors, relaxing before bed. "Are you okay? Do you need anything?" Vicky asked frantically, helping her sit up, which just made all the sudden aches and pains flare up.

"Sis I'm fine!" She wasn't. Not by a long shot. This wasn't the first time this happened in the past couple days, and it never got easier. She felt weak, shaky. It was always minor when her sister just moved out of range, slowly coming down off of the emotional high, very slowly and gradually reaching this point which she had thought was Normal. But the sharp cutoff was like having someone take scalpels to her tendons, all of them, at once. It was an agonizing eye-opener if Dean hadn't already done so. "J-just...help me inside…." Amy managed to weakly request, the fire running through her veins was not conducive to movement, and neither was the crawling sensation under her skin.

"Okay, up you get." Vicky weakly encouraged, bodily helping her shorter sister to her feet, and walking her slowly to the door. Each step felt like she had broken every bone in her body. Standing still while Vicky rummaged in her skirt pockets for the keys as like standing on pins and needles. The jolt she got when she ushered them both inside practically sucked the air out of her burning lungs. "Mom! Mom Amy needs help!" Damn it, she didn't want Carol to-!

"Did you send her into withdrawal again?!" Carol Dallon demanded imperiously, the tall golden-blonde adult version of her older sister striding purposefully into the entryway, her equally shapely form still wearing the inner parts of her business wear. "Come here Amy, we'll get you to bed." Amy winced in pain as her adoptive mother got on her other side, and helped Vicky gently ease weight off of her legs. It may have helped, but it still changed the focus of the pain from her legs to her arms.

"Carol, you don't need-."

"I am your mother. It's...the least I can do." Carol said with shame, and Amy flinched away from her vindictive mother's unusually demure behavior that she'd adopted around her since the events Friday night were aired once they got home. Including the full breadth of her powers.

Amy didn't want it, the pity, the shame, the constant overtures. It felt so pointless. Carol was too late to be her mom, didn't she realize that? Still, the genuine regret Carol Dallon displayed the moment she realized the daughter she treated like a stranger in her own home since as far back as she could remember, was a victim of her own family's neglect and carelessness was touching. The fact she began firmly stating herself as her mother, Amy as her daughter...it felt like a sad string in her heart was being plucked. Something that wanted and yearned so dearly but hurt at the same time.

The fact she could do brains, but didn't on principle also seemed to make Carol proud of her in a way, saying that such a level of self-restraint was a sign of good character. Carol also forbid her from sneaking off to heal every chance she got, and was going to police Amy's behavior to make sure she got the help she needed. The New Wave pledge was Full Disclosure and Full Accountability, it was about time they started doing it amongst themselves. This meant Amy's shifts at the hospitals were effectively canceled for the time being save for mass emergency situations.

Amy was thankful her sister and Carol had practically carried her up the stairs, and she hissed as she was lowered to her bed, thankful for the plush comforters even if she couldn't work up the strength to get out of her billowing clothes. "Do you need anything?" Carol asked in concern, holding up a hand to silence Vicky about to ask much the same thing, giving her older sister a scathing look that meant she was going to get another lecture in short order.

"I could use dinner. And help out of my robe." Amy admitted weakly, not willing to give eye contact out of embarrassment, and Carol briskly nodded before forcefully guiding Vicky out of the room, gently closing the door and leaving Amy to her privacy. Which was what Amy was hoping for.

No longer having to save face, Amy panted, shivered, and weakly curled up in a ball of pain, the throbbing headache in her frontal cortex from the dopamine and serotonin plunge was searing her eyes. She felt like her brain was trying to claw out of her forehead and temples. She cried, sobbing weakly as she tried to collect herself. She didn't want her sister or Carol to come back in and find her a shuddering weeping wreck.

They both blamed themselves enough, she had to help herself. She always preached this to Merchant victims getting hooked on drugs after she fixed what bodily damage and withdrawal symptoms she could without touching the brain. They could only recover if they helped themselves. Seeing repeat victims of this, who end up hospitalized in even worse condition later always stung as some of the worst failures on her part. Now it was her, and it hurt. She could see why most of them couldn't stop and kept sliding down the rabbit hole.

If Vicky came back, she knew she was going to beg her to blast her with aura again. She Needed it. Life was Empty and Worthless without it. But it made her loathe herself even more, redoubling her sobs regardless of the throbbing pain each body-wracking choke sent through her.

It hurt so much she wanted to Die.

"Amy." Amy flinched at hearing Carol's voice, and managed to uncurl herself enough to see the woman who could have been her mother kneeling at her bedside, a plate of roast chicken, peas, and corn off to the side on her nightstand "It'll be okay. We'll work through this." Carol implored her, and Amy whimpered in the pain, letting the usually cold woman bring her into an embrace, holding Amy's face to her bosom. "We'll make sure you get the help you need." Carol whispered, kissing her scalp.

Amy bawled into her mother's chest, clutching desperately for any comfort from the pain, begging for her to make it stop, to Kill her even. She pleaded with her mom to help her, running her throat ragged with scattered pleas and nonsensical ramblings until she passed out into equally painful nightmares. Even as she passed out, her mother held her tightly, glowing brightly as if an angel to guard over her.


	10. Chapter 8

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Catalyst 1.8**_

[Monday, October 18, 2010]

Last night, I had spoken at length with Kathleen about her situation, about what I needed her help with, and why. I told her I needed someone to test my products on, someone to help me ensure future patients would not suffer my errors. She agreed surprisingly readily, saying that she hadn't felt so clear-headed in years. I was intellectually appalled when she told me she was barely 19, having gotten addicted while at Winslow, and sucked into the downward rabbit hole that was the Merchant's drug system.

I swear, I will do everything to kill the gang's drug enterprise, both for it's members, and for those we sell to. If I could produce enough, I would prefer we start selling my own serums instead. Because even hours later, Kathleen had not relapsed into withdrawal, and she did not crave heroin, her drug, anymore. She volunteered to be my test subject for all future projects to my internal disbelief. I told her to think about it longer, sleep on it, I did not want her to regret her decision later.

I would have to wait until the afternoon to check in on her, because I have school thanks to Squealer managing to convince Skidmark I still had to attend school, to at least provide a civilian identity, an advantage that the others lacked.

I got off the bus, dressed as I usually was in my khaki pants and a green St. Patty's graphic T-shirt. I had around 30 of the shirts because my favorite color was green, and they were always cheap following the holiday. My cargo pants were getting tighter in the crotch, I swear, it stung a bit. I refuse to bring my pants lower on my hips however, I'm not some moron. I kept my Merchant bracelet on me unlike before, it was in my left thigh pocket, in case I needed to contact any other members in the school.

I walked through the broken metal detectors at the front doors, heading towards my locker to get my bag and books.

"Ew, what's that smell? Oh, it's Hebert! She must've stepped in dog crap again!" I paused, turning my head slightly to see Taylor. She was just passing through, hiding behind her grey hoodie and hugging her bag to herself as some prissy nobodies indirectly heckled her.

"I don't see anything on her shoes, maybe she sleeps in it!" Another replied, the heartless harpies all laughing falsely at their childish belittling of an innocent peer.

I...didn't care, so much as I didn't agree with what I was seeing. Before, I despised this everyday affair, now though, I merely disliked it on an intellectual level. However, that seemed to make it easier to process, to decide whether or not to act, rather than let peer pressure or cowardice prevent anything. So…. "Huh, odd, I didn't smell anything until I passed you two." I commented dryly as I moved past them, not letting them get any words in, but I noticed Taylor look towards me as I moved on.

[Pick Your Poison]

Even without emotions, Winslow was a slow, torturous grind. I listened to Mr. Quinlan drone on for the 45 minutes he had to make life as uninteresting as possible. It made it even harder when I was sat not even five feet from a small plant he had planted next to the back corner of the room. My power was telling me he overwatered frequently enough that a small mildew culture was in the pot, just begging me to-.

"Mr. Ruebs, could you give me the answer to the equation?" Mr. Quinlan called out, snapping my attention from the plant just a few feet to my right back to the board, which held a simple geometry equation for finding the angle of a triangle.

"X equals 7." I answered succinctly, getting the old teacher to provide that I was correct, and move on with the lesson. Thankfully, just a few minutes later, he had to free us for lunch. On the way there, I spotted Taylor again, heading instead for a stairwell. Before I could move on towards the cafeteria, I saw her get bodily shoved down the stairs, and I moved quickly towards her.

"Wow! Klutz much Hebert?" Sophia Hess cheerily snarked at her victim, who I readily helped up by placing a hand under her arm and almost casually hefted the waifish girl to her feet. "Whoa, hey, the fuck do you think you're doing?" Hess demanded of me, causing a scene. Taylor was frozen in shock, unable to process the situation I assumed, so I decided to reply.

"Helping a fellow student up. She did just take a nasty spill. Do you need to see the nurse?" I blandly drawled, Taylor looking at me like I was an alien or other such oddity. "I asked if you are alright."

"Y-yeah...I-I'm fine…." Taylor finally replied, moving to pick her bag back up, and warily skirted around Hess towards the cafeteria instead of the stairwell. The scene over with, the rest of the crowd moved back towards the source of food. Meanwhile, Hess took the chance to snarl viciously at me.

"The fuck are you thinking?! Pulling shit like that!" She shoved me, not that it accomplished much since I stood almost a head over her and easily weighed twice as much if not more.

"Hey, watch the moobs, they're tender." I snarked, and she punched me in the left nipple. I inwardly cringed, but bore it. Pain wasn't unfamiliar to me. "Ow." I blandly intoned, and this seemed to just piss her off more, so she stepped into my space, hooked the back of my ankle with a foot, and then practically threw me down to the ground, making me bounce, and hiss as the back of my skull met hard commercial tile.

"Pull shit like that again, and I'll break your fucking nose!" Hess threatened, and I coughed.

"Please miss, may I have another?" I dryly taunted, and she growled as she kicked me in the ribs, making me cringe, and then she stomped on my head, sending lights through my vision.

"What's going on here?!" Demanded an angry voice, I was too out of it to tell who it was.

"Oh nothing at all! I was just-."

"Kicking someone while they were down. Report to the Principal's office!" I groaned as I picked my head up, and I blinked in surprise.

"Oh c'mon Mrs. Knott, I-."

"Don't try to make excuses Miss Hess! Report, to the office." Mrs. Knott ordered, pointing in the direction of the office, and Hess fumed visibly, but stormed off in the direction the tall woman had indicated. "Are you alright Mr. Ruebs?" Mrs. Knott asked as she moved to help me up, the strong older woman managing to aid me to my feet.

"Yeah. She just hits like a brick, and pulled some judo move or something to throw me down." I rubbed my aching head, blinking sent spots in my vision.

"Did you do anything to provoke Miss Hess?" Mrs. Knott asked seriously, and I shrugged.

"I just helped Taylor to her feet when she fell down the stairs, and when everyone had left, she started threatening me for helping her." I replied fully, and Mrs. Knott just...deflated.

"Oh...well...you just try to keep out of trouble. We'll be having words with Miss Hess." Mrs. Knott said, and then walked off in the same direction as Hess.

Somehow, I highly doubted even this public assault on someone would get the Track Star in any actual trouble. If anything, I bet I'd get disciplined for some reason, and the entitled Miss Hess would come out smelling like daisies.

Oddly enough, I was thankful for my powers suppressing my emotions, because I honestly couldn't give a damn.

[Pick Your Poison]

Well, it was as I expected, but, also, completely not what I expected.

After lunch, in Mrs. Knott's class, I was called to the office of Principal Blackwell, a pale middle-aged woman who could easily be described as a severe woman dressed for a funeral. She informed me that Sophia Hess was being punished with detention for assaulting me, but I was going to be forced to visit the nurse to make sure I wasn't seriously hurt, and then be sent home regardless and asked to 'take a couple days off school' with no loss of assignment credits.

This is fishy, they clearly do not want me around while visible bruises like her stomp on my face were obvious. What are they hiding?

While I was in her office though, I raised my concerns over the well-being of Taylor, it was the least I could do, even if I figured that Blackwell likely already knew, and was covering it up in ten different layers of bullshit. Something I more-or-less confirmed when she said 'we'll take care of it' in a clearly false and uncaring manner. Woman, a politician you are not.

On the way out, I flagged a student who I recognized was a junior Merchant, and after showing my bracelet, told him to have the crew in school keep an eye on Hess. Inform Dealer or Squealer if the vile girl was going to actually be punished, or if anything would be done to help Taylor, her usual victim. Thankfully Squealer added a special knot and blue bead to my bracelet that hinted at my status as a big-shot in the crew, so he didn't ask questions.

I left the building after seeing the nurse and her calling my mom to pick me up. I didn't have to wait too long before my mom pulled up to the entrance and I got into the rusty old car. "Son, are you okay?" Mom asked me as the nurse had had called her near the end of her shift since she got off work nearly two hours before school did in order to pick me up from school. "All the school told me was you were caught in a fight."

"Typical, say nothing, leave victims to pick up the pieces. I was assaulted by the school's vaunted Track Star; Sophia Hess for trying to help Taylor from having been pushed down the stairs by said same girl." I informed my mother, who slammed on the brakes after only barely making it down the street, which did not help my aching head at all.

"WHAT?! Those goddamn useless-!" I grabbed the transmission shift before she could put it in reverse, and looked her in the eyes.

"Mom, she's been getting away with anything since school started. A single parent with no money to speak of and her overweight average-scoring son? Worth next to nothing to a sports star that could maybe earn a scholarship and recognition for the school. Don't worry, I will deal with this." One way, or another. I believe it is only fair that karma have some agents to enact it's suppressed will. Newly sociopathic or not, I was definitely going to be sure to still keep tabs on what I considered fair or not.

"...Make them pay, will you?" Mom urged me, and I nodded. Ruebs were ones for revenge. Our family history warns us we've killed for far less slights than this. I just hope mom doesn't call Uncle Eagan over in Boston about this, my father's brother was known for trouble. The sort that ended up with people like Hess and Blackwell buried alive or at the bottom of the bay.

[Pick Your Poison]

I got out of the van Rahj had picked me up from home with, already fully costumed. I headed directly towards Squealer and Kathleen's room. Since I administered the Addictol, and Kathleen had started on a recovery diet of protein shakes, Squealer decided to still keep her in her room for the most part to keep her safe. I entered to find Kat dozing in her sleeping bag which had been brought in along with some spare clothes. I checked the notepad on the nightstand, she hadn't relapsed at all according to this message from Squealer.

Hearing Kat mumble and shift, I turned to see the poor girl rise up and rub her eyes. Thankfully she was wearing clothes that weren't just tattered rags now. "Hey Dealer...you're back earlier than you said."

"Life hardly goes as one either expects or hopes." I vaguely replied. "Have you thought on my offer more?"

"Yes. I still want to help you. You could help more people like me. And, if you get any exotic ideas, I'd be up for trying them too. I don't have many options otherwise." Kat answered, and I nodded in acceptance of her consent. "So, when can we get started?"

"Right now. Do you have warm clothes?" It was still barely 50 degrees fahrenheit inside the fishery, definitely not T-shirt and shorts temperature. The regular rain that had battered the Bay nightly since friday wasn't helping either since a cold front had blown down the northeast of the United States from the direction of where Newfoundland used to be.

"Not really, I just have a few changes of shirts and shorts Squealer tossed at me." Kat gestured to herself, and I promptly took off my overcoat and put it on her shoulders. "W-what're you doing?"

"I require your input so I know what you're okay with and not. I'm not going to make a new product just to shelve it because you didn't want it later, this one I jumped the gun on so I need to start involving you directly immediately." I pragmatically informed, and she put her arms in the sleeves as she looked down for some reason.

"Okay, just let me put on shoes." Kat quietly said, and I waited for her to put on some longjohn socks, useful for this weather, then just ratty old sneakers. "Alright, let's go." I led her across the motor pool, staying near her in case her weak body needed someone to lean on or something like that. "Huh...this isn't what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting? We're the Merchants, not Medhall." I dryly snarked, and she snorted at it. I got someone to laugh at my horrible sarcasm. Yay. "So, here is what I gave you that stopped your addiction and most withdrawal symptoms." I pointed to the re-sealed glass of Addictol, the few ounces in it clearly enough for about 22 5-milliliter doses. "Addictol. Addiction? It'll cure it all."

"Pfft, what, you ask a salesman to come up with that pitch?" Kat smiled and chortled. She thinks I'm funny. Someone thinks I'm funny even as dead as I am inside. I greatly wish my power did not do this to me, because I would've been beyond ecstatic at this before I triggered.

"I figure it better to name something in a simple way than get complicated about it. So, this is just the beginning. I next need to run this by you; would you be willing to undergo potential growth?" I asked her, and she blinked in confusion.

"Growth...how? Like, what do you mean? Mental, philosophical, or…." She clutched her flat chest, and I shrugged.

"That's the problem, that's why I asked for your help. I have no idea if it will just do what I think it will, or if it will make you start growing taller or something." I informed, and Kat hummed.

"Well…." She looked up at me, the young woman barely passing five feet tall. "I...wouldn't mind being taller. Sure, what've you got?" I turned to the side, moving to a plastic container of what was formerly protein powder. She'd consumed half of this jug of powder shortly after we introduced ourselves along with several bottles of water. Her stomach protested, but she was so out of sorts her body needed nourishment. I then took the remaining powder of this jug for my next project since we had several on hand now.

"This, hopefully, should help you regain muscle mass at an advanced rate. But how fast, and how effective it is I am unsure, and again, I do not know how much a dose would constitute, or all the effects." I informed as I opened the lid, revealing protein powder that was mixed with some bacteria I fostered from probiotics along with several steroid samples. If this would work right, it would trigger the pituitary gland into action which promotes growth, various gender-specific attributes which may help reverse any damage to her reproductive organs the heroin may have done, and of course improve health in general. "I want you to take only a single scoop of this a day for however long it takes to either show results or if it does, until you decide to stop. It's ridiculously easy to make."

"Okay, sure. Do I have to choke it down dry though?" She asked as she looked around, and gasped when she touched the invisible wall curiously since it obviously wasn't a window, some measure of awe in her expression.

"No, put it in water, milk, your choice. Just don't use carbonated drinks, the acids will kill the bacteria regardless of the protein shell. It needs to make it to your stomach for the local bacteria to adopt the new bacteria into their…." Kat had zoned out, clearly lost as I had droned on. "Nevermind, you drink it and hopefully you'll recover quicker."

"Got it." She took the container, which was barely half full even with the other additions I made to it. "I'm actually hungry now, so I'll go get some water and chug." Kat said before walking out of my lab, and I turned back to my worktable to look over a list of ideas I'd been writing down while at school. Some of these were outlandish, but if I could get some of them to work, it'd be amazing. Sadly, the resources my power felt were necessary weren't available. Thankfully, it seemed if I wasn't already in the midst of producing something, my power didn't sic my anger on me.

"Yo bitch!" I turned to see Skidmark enter my lab, his shit-eating grin plastered on his half-masked face. "Nice work on the armor! We're about ready to move out already." I casually nudged the Addictol to the back of the worktable, moving to intercept him as if he just had my full attention and I wasn't trying to keep interest off the serum.

"Really? That was fast. How many suits did the crew complete?" I asked Skidmark, and his eye did linger on the glass with curiosity, but he looked back to me with his grin still intact.

"About ten outfits for the Jeepers, and six for the Creepers. I guess it's harder to work with spandex or some shit like that." Skidmark shrugged. "So, I just wanted to see if you had anything new or interesting. You've been on a streak like hot shit, and I want to know if we've got anything else to field before Wednesday."

That's...eerie. He's oddly lucid. This is usually only if he's on a micro-dosage of meth or he's on weed right now. No, he doesn't reek any more than usual, something's up. "Well, I've tested something that might be of immeasurable help, but I'm also testing something else to-."

"Make us beefy like bodybuilders right? Make roid rage look like useless shit?" Skidmark asked rhetorically, and I nodded without hesitation, unsure how he knew that already. "Yeah, about that, I like the sound of it, but keep it in the gang for now." Skidmark leaned up towards me, and I realized his eyes were completely focused. I span towards the glass to realize with chagrin, that it was slightly lower than last night. "Yeah. Good shit. I haven't been this stone-cold sober in fucking ages. And I have you to thank for getting my head out of my ass."

"What are your plans now?" I asked seriously, turning back to him.

"Now? What we should've been doing for a long time, and totally fucking forgot after we helped kick the Teeth out years ago." Skidmark alluded with a disturbingly calm smirk on his face. "We, are gonna take this city. Evict the ABB and E88. Fucking stop all these invaders hurting the locals. After all, that's our job." Skidmark patted my shoulder, and turned to leave. "Keep it up Dealer. You keep working damn miracles, we may just finally slay a fucking dragon, and make a king bleed on his little bitch throne."

...A sober Skidmark...what horrible monster have I unleashed upon the world?


	11. Chapter 9

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Catalyst 1.9**_

[Wednesday, October 20, 2010]

With Skidmark, Mush, and Squealer all no longer addicted to their various vices thanks to my Addictol, the Merchants suddenly seem to start getting more organized. I had to visit Mush several times to make more Addictol for it to be distributed to the lieutenants and other already capable members first before it would trickle down. Thankfully that meant both Rahj and Howard, who have been assigned as my personal minions now, immediately got cured of their cocaine and opium addictions respectfully.

Also, apparently due to overwhelming success, everyone who got a dose were beyond happy to no longer feel the need, the all-consuming ache of addiction. It took some effort Tuesday to keep the gang from outright vindictively burning all the drugs immediately, having to be reminded until I got more situated and could make fire-resistant Balcoat that we shouldn't lose our only income, as much as it disgusted the newly sober members.

Squealer, who had blabbed about my Addictol when Skidmark beat her for not outright telling him about what I was doing, was ashamed for betraying my unspoken trust that she would be able to keep Skidmark in the dark for a bit at least. I of course thought nothing of it, the pig had beat her for not 'Squealing' and that was enough for me to understand that she was truly a victim in a toxic relationship. At least before he dosed with Addictol and seemed to collect himself.

Skidmark was like a different person now, it was disturbingly uncanny how different this sober Skidmark was compared to the constantly high or in-withdrawal version everyone knew. He still cursed like a sailor and was vicious as always, but his temper was practically nonexistent compared to before. Someone could call him a moron to his face, and he would calmly ask why they thought that, get the answers, and Then he would break a finger or something minor.

In fact, he was even treating Squealer better, like he actually cared beyond sex. If he kept this up, I might even respect him, since he no longer seemed to fit the buttmonkey role anymore.

Mush was...not much different to be honest. He wasn't getting high every chance he could now, but he still languished in his piles of trash, which he had started to gather up from the fishery into a single place. Something about helping clean the place up ironically, while stockpiling garbage in his room.

All them aside, Trainwreck was oddly...subdued. He did what was asked, relayed orders, but he seemed off compared to his usual self I'd managed to get to know somewhat during the weekend. I tried to ask if anything was wrong, but he deflected, so I figured it was best left for whenever he was ready, I had other things I needed to focus on regardless.

"Typical." I commented at the written message I just got from a ganger. It said that Sophia Hess was not really being punished. Sure, she was attending detention, but she still hung out with her friends during it and only had to suffer a mere ten or so minutes of hearing Mr. Quinlan drone on about geometry before being allowed to outright socialize the remaining fifty minutes.

Past that she and her other entitled friends had also kicked up their torment of Taylor even more, and the staff is doing absolutely nothing. A few other parts of the message in varied handwritings all requested if they could sneak drugs into Hess's locker and arrange for the staff to find them in her 'possession' and other such nasty little tricks. Clearly now that I'd brought it to their attention, the other Rats in the school did not like what was going on any more than I did. "Hm...well, it isn't like Winslow is even capable of doing their jobs."

"Hey~ there~..." Purred a young woman's voice, and I didn't react as I felt said person wrap her arms around me and press her chest into my neck. "What ya doin'?" Kathleen crooned as she rubbed her hands up my arms and over my shoulders.

"Just seeing to a delicate issue. How's the increased libido going? Has it reduced at all?" I asked casually, ready to write any notes on developments from Kathleen's continuing Surge regimen.

"Oh~ hell no~. I am burning in my core, I just wanna fuck someone!" Kat panted, squeezing me as I noted down that it was getting worse. "God damn Dealer. I don't regret agreeing to this, but I don't exactly trust anyone here but you to get that intimate."

"I am sorry. I knew that it would trigger your pituitary gland, but I had no idea it would be this severe in daily doses. Perhaps, just a weekly dose?" I considered, turning to look at the rapidly improving young woman. Kat's eyes seemed to have healed some, their hazel surface healthy rather than glassy. Her dark skin was regaining hue, the sickly powdery pale practically gone with just two days of rest and fulfilling meals. Even her hair was growing fast, the dark short hair sprouting from her formerly bald scalp quickly.

But most notably, was her rapidly increasing muscle definition which by now made the formerly emaciated young woman look like a fit one. She'd also grown over an inch in just two days. But, unfortunately it seemed to have a drawback. I looked down at her chest, seeing the B-cups that she'd already grown back from her new 'see food' diet and the Surge spiking the growth as well. "Yeah, they're even bigger. Not complaining, but the milk is new." Kat pointed out as she pointed to her nipples and the wet splotches on her shirt.

"Again, sorry. The Pituitary Gland is perhaps the most important part of the human body in physical and sexual development, I couldn't bypass it without possibly endangering you even more." Which was true, my power told me that to try and work against the body's own potential and capabilities was anathema if I wanted to heal or help. If I tried to bypass the gland, she could have had all sorts of complications. A few unbecoming effects were worth avoiding mutations and cancer if the damaged biology and human anatomy textbooks I'd been binge reading while I made more Addictol had anything to say.

"And again, not complaining. I'm still smaller than I used to be before I became a damn ghoul, but I'm glad to finally feel more like a woman again. Even if it means feeling so damn horny." Kat informed me, sighing as she pulled the neck of her shirt out, waving a hand at her chest. "No matter how cold it is I feel hot."

"How are the growing pains?" I asked, noting the hot-flashes and continued boost to her libido down to my notepad, and she shrugged.

"Can barely notice them over my burning gut and my hunger." Kat replied. "Also, I don't notice soreness as much now."

"That's the gland's natural ability to aid in pain resistance. You could stop if you want Kat, I have enough data to work off of at the moment to try and move onto more paced testing." I looked over at the large tray of sealed glasses holding Addictol as I also began to write out a note back to the ringleader of Winslow's Merchants, who had dubbed themselves the Rats in the note.

"Fuck no! I wanna see how tall this stuff can get me, or how buff, and how big." Kat slurred, clutching her chest with a shiver. "It's like an addiction, but better, because it's all benefits."

"Careful Kat, I might just give you another dose of Addictol to make sure that isn't really just addiction speaking for you." I warned, since addiction comes in many forms.

"Yeah, yeah, habit-forming and whatnot. But this stuff has to have an upper limit, it can't seriously make me grow forever, that's impossible." Kat reasoned, and I had to agree. Eventually the Surge would stop being an outright benefit and just kick the libido in gear once she got as big as her body said was her full potential.

"You've got me there, just don't let your libido speak for you." I reminded my assistant-slash-test subject, who sighed.

"You know, you could just say 'don't think with my groin'." Kat rolled her eyes. "The gentleman gig doesn't keep it's charm when the lady's already trying to get in your pants."

"And I keep having to remind you I'm 14 until November and can't even give consent then either, I'm also emotionally dead inside." I don't understand why she's at all interested. I mean, I'm fat, she doesn't even know what I look like behind my costume, and my jokes are terrible. If I wasn't an empty shell of a person, I would've jumped on the offer like the horny teenager I'm supposed to be, but I'd rather avoid complications fraternizing with Kat would cause.

"I'm only 19, I can still look at teenagers. Also, you're a Villain, that's such a weak excuse." Kat reasoned with a pout, and I shrugged before going back to writing the message. "Oh god, I've gotta find Squeals, she'll know how to either get through thick-headed boy's skulls or at least how to manage a raging lady-boner." Kat whined as she stomped out of my lab, and I again wish I had emotions, because as lewd and ridiculous as the situation was, I'm sure I would've found it funny.

[Pick Your Poison]

"So! How do they look?" Skidmark asked my opinion as he exaggeratedly posed in gesture to the assembled and equipped Jeepers and Creepers. "I think they look fucking badass!"

"I cannot attest to levels of badassery, but I can agree that for their roles, both groups would very easily fit the jobs assigned to them." I agreed on other terms than simply their looks.

The Jeepers were, aside from their blue hooded coats, an eye-catching splash of color, their choice in shirts, pants, and shoes all a wide arrangement of colors, their plastic jug gas masks also an opaque random paint color, some even tie-dye. One however also had tie-dye absolutely everywhere, including his coat and armor which for the others were bare. I don't know how or why that happened, but he'd be the biggest target and I hope he knows it. Because that's what the Jeepers were, the distraction, the vanguard.

The Creepers, under the scattered blacklights, looked like hook-armed ghosts with bulky shoulders, bucket heads, and otherwise just looked like some sort of nighttime dance routine waiting to happen. Their outfits were made for stealth, and to muffle their noises. The hooks were a lethal last solution to being discovered, while also giving them an invisible weapon they couldn't drop, since it was integrated with the costume.

"So long as the Jeepers distract, the Creepers should be able to sneak around or ambush the unaware." I reiterated, and Skidmark laughed triumphantly for having thought of this while he was still a strung-out dullard.

"This is great! As soon as we get all thirty of these guys set on a target, the ABB won't know what hit them! I'd like more, but we need convincing actors for the first act of this new play! The actors are ready, but the stage isn't set! Although, I'd also like it more if we have the Peepers on overwatch, but that's the only thing missing." Skidmark sighed theatrically. He's such a goob now, I think I could've gotten to like him.

As for the Peepers, they were still in the development stages. Squealer was having trouble with her project for them, and several runners were scouring the ship graveyard, train yard, and junk yard for the parts she needed. I wasn't paying much attention to anything besides my Addictol and Surge development or my correspondence with Winslow's Rats. I'm perplexed as to why several of the women in the crew have already asked for Surge since I haven't finished testing it, even saying they didn't care about that and wanted a jug of it anyway, which forced me to make more and have a couple of runners actually go out and buy more whey protein.

Females, such perplexing creatures.

"So now what?" Asked one of the twenty Jeepers, specifically the tie-dye one.

"We've gotta wait for some fucking news on an ABB hotspot we can hit. Gotta make it a big first haul too, since we'll need the funds and loot from the raid to help Deal and Squeal make better stuff." Skidmark explained, irritated at how little information his runners had been able to gather on the ABB's operations. Aside from a couple small drug labs even smaller than the one we'd lost last week, there was no sign of a major supply cache or safehouse as of yet.

"I have news." Trainwreck intoned, getting everyone on the main floor of the fishery to turn towards the lumbering mechanical man as he entered, who if I was reading his posture right, something I'd been practicing, he was glum, or annoyed.

"Well spill the beans Trainwreck, what's up?" Skidmark asked curiously, and Trainwreck sighed.

"I've gotten in contact with an...outside source, who is a font of information. They say they know where a decently sized ABB cache is. Too big to hit with just a few guys, but too small to hit with too many at once." Trainwreck declared, and Skidmark, no longer an idiot, quirked his face as he crossed his arms.

"Who's this informant?" Skidmark ordered with curiosity.

"Tattletale from the Undersiders." Trainwreck grumbled, clearly annoyed at having had to even talk to...who?

"Who are they?" I voiced, because I had no idea who this person or their group was.

"Some little hot-shit all-cape villain team. They've only been around the past month or so, nobody knows much of anything about the little fucks other than Bitch is their heavy hitter." Skidmark informed me rather poorly. "Before you ask more stupid questions, just go on PHO like everyone else Dealer."

"Forums are for plebeians and trolls, if it's credible information I want, i look for a Wiki." I dislike forums. So clustered, and hard to find reliable information on, he can't be serious.

"Forums are for the informed in this fucked-up parahuman world, get used to surfing the shit-sea for info." Skidmark cackled, and I didn't react. "Geez, I fucking forget you're a damn statue sometimes. So, think it's reliable Train?"

"Tattletale, while a really fucking annoying know-it-all bitch, is in fact a real know-it-all. If she says she knows something, she does. She won't admit when she doesn't know something though, and she'll find out before she says anything of the sort. So yeah, she's legit. She'll burn bridges if she pointlessly drops fake info, so I trust it." Trainwreck reasoned, and Skidmark gestured for him to continue. "Believe it or not, the nearest big cache the ABB have isn't even four blocks west of here."

"You're fucking shitting me!" Skidmark declared in frustration, smacking his forehead with a groan. "What're our guys doing out there?! Playing with their dicks?!"

"To be fair, the ABB only go in and out through the sewers." Trainwreck added on, and Skidmark grumbled about the shitty ABB and their shitty shittiness. Even the Merchants didn't use the sewers with regularity, we preferred the storm drain system, less refuse.

"Okay then, I can forgive our boys not finding it then. So what's the address?" Skidmark asked with a feral grin, the Jeepers and Creepers all visibly eager to get moving, while I just hoped this went well.

[Pick Your Poison]

I stood next to Squealer on the roof of yet another ubiquitous abandoned apartment building on the edge of the docks area. This may have only been four blocks west of the fishery and Lord Street Market, but it marked an invisible line separating the docks from the slums. This street, long having lost it's road signs, was once the place the dockworkers lived either permanently or temporarily during the Bay's heyday as a shipping hub. Before the Endbringer Leviathan decided ocean shipping lanes were easy targets.

Like most of North Brockton Bay, this section of the city was left forgotten, rotting. Everything north of Downtown was just slums and abandoned industrial from a bygone era. I mused over the cruelty of it all, the unfair conditions people who were forced to live out here had to deal with. I looked over at Squealer who was looking through a telescope. Yes, an actual telescope. To peer down at the boarded up and clearly 'abandoned' cache house.

She was just a prime example of what this city did to the poor, destitute, or unwanted. Even though she had also taken Addictol and was on her own once-a-week Surge diet now, Squealer was still a good pointer to what happened if you weren't born even lower-middle-class in this city. "They've got it boarded up tight. Place is too fragile to just ram a van into though, it'd probably come crumbling down."

"So what can we do? I don't think we have any handheld battering rams." I asked, wondering what we would end up doing, since nobody wanted to skulk through the stink of the sewers like the ABB were willing to.

"We're gonna have to hope having Train bust down the front door won't cause anything to come down with it." Squealer put down the telescope, collapsed it against her thigh, and put her helmet back on from where she'd set it down. Tapping the side of it to activate a built-in earphone she got from the market sometime ago. "Okay Train, you're up."

I watched attentively, waiting to see something happen. I didn't have to wait long, as Train suddenly appeared as if from nowhere and shoulder-barged through the front door, taking just a bit of masonry with him. Shouts in various Asian languages were heard, shortly before small-arms gunfire followed. I didn't have to worry, because Train wasn't going to be stopped by something as trivial as a pistol.

Then, came the Jeepers.

They poured out of more invisible vans, all twenty of them armed with cheap old pump-action shotguns the Merchants had a stash of since shotgun ammo was cheap and there were plenty of old hunting and sporting goods stores that had gone under and been forced to abandon stock. The sounds of their superior firepower was soon heard, followed by the screams of agony as the balcoat-treated birdshot the shells were loaded with also ignited from the powder, a sadistic combination one of the ex-military members had thought up.

Not even five minutes later, the place was deadly silent save a couple Jeepers with extinguishers clearly using them on the corpses to keep the place from catching fire, and the protests of some captured ABB being led out by the Creepers and tossed in the 'prison' van that was brought for such an occasion. They'd be dropped off in front of the BBPD station furthest from ABB turf in the southern end of the city.

If I wasn't so dead inside, I think I would have been appalled at such cold brutality. Only 4 ABB were taken prisoner, their weapons bagged in freezer bags so the cops could arrest them. There were supposed to be 12 gangers here.

I watched as the Jeepers, and apparently some Creepers from the floating boxes, were loading the cache's contents into the very vans they had come from, Trainwreck already heading for his original van to head back to the fishery. We'd take everything; drugs, money, weapons, ammo, even some furniture. This was only the first, and it was too easy. There was no response from the lookouts, no inbound ABB reinforcements, no sudden explosions so Oni Lee hadn't been contacted, and no sudden...fiery explosions, so Lung clearly wasn't going to be an issue tonight.

This felt pathetically simple. Was it really this easy to just rob a major gang?

"C'mon Dealer, we've gotta skedaddle." Squealer said, moving to a fire escape, I cautiously followed as the sounds of far-off police sirens made their way here with all the relevancy of a rainstorm on the horizon.

I got into the van at the bottom of the escape, Rahj and Howard both masked with their ski masks and with pistols ready. As soon as the door closed, we pulled out of the alley, and I looked as the tie-dyed Jeeper tagged the building we'd just assaulted and looted.

A great blue stylized M with dollar signs around it would let the ABB and possibly the city know, we were done playing games.


	12. Chapter 10

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Reaction 2.1**_

[Monday, October 25, 2010]

The past four days have been eventful. Tattletale has been feeding Trainwreck more targets for the crew to hit every evening in exchange for a cut of the cold hard cash each raid comes up with in dead drops. The first one was a freebie to prove her validity.

Of course, the ABB is on high alert, aware that we're gunning for them, and that we're not even caring for something as tenuous as territory either. We're just showing up at random, robbing them blind, incapacitating or killing their members, and vanishing like a fart on the wind. This basically meant, even on the lookout, the Creepers caught them off guard first, and then the Jeepers swept through. At best, only Mush or Trainwreck have had to get directly involved, and usually just for making an opening.

With these guerilla tactics the Merchants have had a huge surge in funds, materials, weapons, and unfortunately, product.

Now that we have some cash to speak of not meant for operations, I had Rahj go to a hardware store and buy several bags of fiberglass insulation to make fire-resistant Balcoat so our guys weren't walking torches waiting to happen. I would have asked him to buy stone wool or carbon fiber if they both weren't ungodly expensive but it would definitely be an improvement. This also meant my Balcoat was commercially viable to sell. So we had over a ton of drugs stockpiled we had no idea what to do with aside from begrudgingly keep peddling to buyers, but only in small doses for a low cost, informing customers we were trying to reduce addiction and overdose risks, excusing it as being bad for business in the long term.

Really, everyone saw through the bullshit, it was just a dirty facade to keep up. The fact the Merchants weren't just ragged rats on street corners or strung-out rapists and murderers was catching on, the sudden shift a shock to the city. Something I noticed quite acutely even here from the way everyone was looking at the known Merchants in the halls of WInslow as I went to my locker for the start of the day.

With several people both male and female having taken just one dose of Surge for a weekly regimen, I had enough data to see it was more stable and less prone to spiking the libido, so I took a serving this morning with breakfast. But since it had already circulated through the gang, a lot of them even buying their own whey powder for me to turn into Surge, some people weren't content with the slower process. So people noticed when somebody gained several pounds of muscle and got taller over a weekend.

One of the Surge users who came to my school was clearly living up the attention, he had been scrawny and unusually short before, now he looked normal, healthy. Others too were clearly taking it daily, one girl was obviously using it for the other effects if her low-cut top and constant passes at a clearly uncomfortable jock meant anything. I knew this would happen, but since I was taking it slow, hopefully I could write it off as a growth spurt that was natural at my age.

I went to my locker, and paused at seeing something unusual.

"Hey bitch." Sophia Hess growled at me, she was leaning against my locker.

"Odd, I'm not wearing a mirror." I dryly sassed, I was getting better at this.

"Fuck you. You got me a week of hearing Quinlan drone on and on about some dumb shit about some dumb no-name math-whatever." Ah, I knew she would be vindictive about this, even if it was only for ten minute intervals, Mr. Quinlan was a torment you could only handle in so many doses a day.

"Unusual conclusion. I believe it was you who got yourself such a punishment." I rebutted, and she looked as if she wanted to repeat last Monday, but clearly she was unwilling to face further punishment for her actions.

"So you think you've got balls huh?" Hess demanded with a leer, and I made a show of sucking in my gut and pretending to peer down my pants. "God, you are a fucking comedian."

"I try." Really, I do. This is so hard, I have to pay attention to every single detail.

"Whatever, just stay away from Hebert-."

"No." I interrupted, I wasn't going to let her even think I would hear out such a demand.

"Excuse me?" Hess spat, clearly incensed even further by my immediate refusal.

"Taylor is an old friend. Too long have I left her to her suffering. Even if she does not want it, I owe her that much." And her father, still haven't gotten him or any member of the Dockworker's Union to hear one of our guys out. We may be making good sales of Balcoat shirts at the Lord Street Market, but we weren't making enough to replace our old source of income just yet, and we all doubted the PRT would ignore the rumors of a stall in the market selling bulletproof clothes for long.

"Well this is the first I've fucking heard of this! Emma didn't mention anything like that." Hess hissed, and I made the effort of rolling my eyes. Emma was Taylor's 'bestie', I was a friend mostly by association at worst, and the awkward only-male-friend at best. So obviously Emma wouldn't even remember if Taylor had told her about me at some point if it wasn't interesting at the time, and back then I don't think boys were on their minds.

"Our fathers were friends who worked together for the Union." I answered simply, I wasn't going to give Hess of all people the whole story, let her stew. "Now if you would move aside, I have to get my science textbook." The moment a vicious smile broke on her face, I knew that wasn't going to happen.

"Oh, sure. Let me just get going." She left, heading towards her usual haunts, and I briskly strode to the locker, pounded on it, and saw what I expected.

The cracked mirror was completely shattered, glass riddled all of my books and backpack, and what looked like dark cola was soaked into them as well as the rest of the contents. I ignored the snickers of some of Hess's outlier associates, and shrugged, slamming the door shut like I always had to. It wasn't much of a loss. I didn't share any classes at all with Hess or her friends, and the pigeons were too small to think of messing with me, being big for my age was a boon for that. So that meant I could just borrow an in-class copy, each class had heavily dog-eared and defaced copies of their required textbooks I could easily do my work with, I'm not too proud to use the 'budget books'.

But this also meant Hess was willing to branch out, start targeting me now that I've displayed I am willing to defy her and her friends.

Good.

Let's see how well they can handle splitting their attention as well as dealing with a return campaign. If the staff of Winslow cannot police their own students, it's time the students did it themselves.

[Pick Your Poison]

I waited at the door to the third-floor restrooms. It was lunchtime and I had made haste to where the Rats have told me Taylor hides for lunch to avoid bullying in the cafeteria. It was a reasonable location, and easily accessible, but I wasn't going to let her keep hiding in a toilet. Unsanitary. In the boy's room alone I could identify numerous sources I could easily make wretched pathogens with. And a poorly disguised coke stain on the counter.

"W-what're you doing here?" I heard Taylor stutter, and I turned to face her calm as I ever am, and she looked like a frightened rabbit about to bolt.

"I'm here to show you a much better place to hide than some filthy restroom." I held up my own paper bag lunch to provide that I wanted to eat lunch with her, and she looked wary, unwilling to outright take me at my word.

"H-how do I know you're not gonna…" Taylor trailed off, what does she-oh. Oh. No. Stop that train of thought.

"My plans are entirely platonic and non-malicious Taylor. I've been avoiding you since you warned me off when we started going to this dump of a school and Emma turned traitor on you. I'm done with that." I nodded my head behind me, and began walking away. I wasn't disappointed to hear her footsteps following after a few seconds.

"S-so where else could I hide?" Taylor asked nervously, but I didn't answer as I began to ascend the last flight of stairs. "U-um, Andrew. That's the roof. We're not allowed up there."

"Neither are the roaches, but you see them everywhere anyhow." I was alluding to WInslow's completely inept faculty and inability to even maintain standard code. I had no clue how they avoided trouble for it, but the Rats were looking into snitching to several city management offices who were responsible for keeping schools to code. I planned to make Winslow's faculty feel the hot-seat they've set up for themselves quite acutely.

We reached the door at the top, and all I did was bump the supposed-to-be-locked door with my belly, and it swung open freely. I had asked the Rats to get someone up here and grease the door so it wouldn't screech and alert anyone any more than any other door. Also the latch was broken, it only stayed closed despite wind because of a pen someone lodges into the open latch. "H-how do you know about this?"

"Some associates of mine, who are easily forgotten, tend to hear and see things most people don't think about, or realize." I alluded. I wasn't going to hide everything from her, Taylor was a good person, a little naive maybe, but she was still smart. I wasn't going to outright deny any involvement with a group and have it blow up in my face later.

"O-oh…." This clearly disheartened her, but I sat down on the cold gravel of the roof, and caving to my unintended peer pressure, she hesitantly followed.

"You don't need to stay if you don't want to Taylor. If my being affiliated with any one group unnerves you, I could leave you to your new hiding place." I offered, and she looked surprised as she waved her hands.

"N-no, it's fine! It's just...after what happened to your dad I thought…." Taylor trailed off again, not willing to outright say anything on the subject.

"A reasonable conclusion to draw Taylor. One I would normally agree with. But suffice to say, I didn't have a choice." I admitted, press-ganging wasn't unheard of or even uncommon, so she quickly looked at me in pity rather than trepidation. "Do not pity me however, I have made the best of my situation." I opened my paper bag, taking out a muffin I baked this morning.

"Sorry. I just don't know how to really...talk to anyone anymore I guess." My old friend admitted, and I nodded as I took a bite. "Actually...you don't sound like you used to either." Taylor noted, and I purposefully rolled my eyes.

"What gave it away? My dry tone? Or my lack of expression?" I needed a sounding board outside the crew. Everyone kept saying I was doing 'better' but they only knew me as I am, never from how I was before, and mom was too busy with work and her own problems. Even if I did give her a dose of Addictol and some Surge to use at her discretion, she still didn't want to outright drop her therapy sessions, which I support her continued attendance of, since addiction was as much a social issue as it was a personal one.

"W-well, that. And you don't seem...happy. Or...anything." Taylor informed me, and I nodded.

"I may have...broke." I admitted, because what else was a Trigger Event but being broken? "I don't feel...anything, anymore. It was hard, adjusting." Still is actually. I may not feel irritation outside of very few situations, but I know I would be pulling my red hair at the roots before all this ever happened.

"Oh god. I'm so sorry." Taylor instinctively replied, and I shrugged. False empathy was an impulse to most people. She may not be responsible or be able to understand my plight, but she would, like most, instantly try to empathize. Only good people do that. I am not a good person by that definition alone.

"Don't be. Now, are you going to eat that?" I pointed at her unopened lunch as I tried for a self-deprecating fat joke, and Taylor snorted at my clear attempt at humor.

"Not if I get a muffin." Taylor teased, since muffins have always been a weakness for me since early childhood and she knew it.

"That could be arranged." I forced myself to smile, and considering her returning smile on those wide lips of hers, I knew it didn't fall flat this time. Progress.

[Pick Your Poison]

I got into the van behind the school, my mental checklist practically filled. I may not feel satisfaction anymore, but I could at least tally my victories in a mental approximation of it. Hess, Barnes, and Clements were clearly caught off-guard by both my own ability to completely ignore them in the halls, even reverse-tripping Hess when she tried it once, as well as Taylor's boost in confidence and ability to shrug them off. She just needed a friend, I only wish it didn't take losing my emotions to make me BE her friend.

Then there was the Rats and them managing to sneak gum into Madison's hair during a gang-up on Taylor, tripping Hess down the stairs, which was so beautifully ironic, and Barnes had her locker broken into, her belongings defaced. Of course, each of them tried to use the faculty in their defense, but each time the Rat who did it slunk away into the crowds without being identified. Several of them might not be all that unnoticable now, but a sea of bodies was a sea of bodies.

"Sup boss." Howard joked from his shotgun seat after I closed the door behind me, working on fitting on my costume from the duffle bag I'd left with my two lieutenants. Most of the seats in this van had been taken out so I had ample room to strip down to my undies and use the overhead blacklight to put on the first layer, my invisible bodysuit.

"How are things going today?" I asked casually as I pulled the legs of the bodysuit on, Rahj had already starting driving towards the fishery.

"You, uh...may need to deal with Kat." Rahj nervously said, and I paused as I had been pulling on a sleeve.

"What's wrong with Kat?" I demanded. I wish I was worried, but I am at least invested in her well-being. I have taken that unto myself by making her my test subject and assistant.

"She...uh...you'll see when we get there." Howard nervously deflected, and I put the rest of my bodysuit on, turning off the light so I could see through the now-invisible bodysuit.

"You are not providing any useful information." I commented as I pulled on my cargo pants, the thigh pockets stuffed with small deodorant cans laced with Air-No and Air-Yes on my right and left sides specifically.

"Kinda the point, we don't exactly know the full extent, just that she's been locked in Squealer's room and Mush is having to hold the door closed. She'd already cracked it by the time we came to get you." Rahj informed, and I finished putting on my hoodie, coat, and mask. I flipped the hood up and sat down in the only bench behind Rahj to put on my boots.

"Well if she's still moving at least she's not sick or hurt." I considered what it could be. She'd been growing the whole week she'd been on Surge. Getting stronger as well as all other sorts of things my pre-trigger self would have found enticing. Now I'm just considering I severely underestimated the human body's potential for growth.

"She may be sick." Howard admitted, and I went over in my head all of the possibilities the testing has laid out for me. I wasn't drawing any nasty conclusions, so I could only suppose she did something stupid. I remained silent as did my lieutenants until we got to the fishery and I promptly got out of the van the moment Rahj parked, and went straight for Squealer's room. Mush was visibly putting effort in his golem form to hold the shattered pieces of door in the frame, trash even morphing around and over it.

"Oh thank god! Get your damn Brute to cool her fucking gigantic tits!" Mush eloquently pleaded of me. I think calling them gigantic was a bit of a stretch. They may have been as big as the average person's head, but on a tall and muscular 6-foot woman like Kat, they seemed almost normal for her wide hip and shoulder frame.

"I heard that! I'm going to rip out your fucking prostate and feed it to you!" Kat's voice sounded behind the door, a sound of crunching wood followed along with a loud thud from the other side.

"Kat, you will do no such thing. Either calm down, or you will remain detained." I called out, I was wondering what was causing all this.

"I'm fucking starving! I've already drank my tits dry, I need more food!" So she's hungry? What's the big deal then?

"You ate all our fucking snacks! The guys on the food run aren't even back!" Mush informed me from screaming at the door.

"...Kat. What did you do?" I need information, does anyone know how to divulge Useful information?

"I...fuck. I may have...possibly...overdosed on Surge?" Kat asked more than said, and I had to bring my thoughts to a halt. We'd never tested what taking more than a single dose a day would do. I wasn't sure it wouldn't still cause cancer or mutation if too much was put in the body at once.

"Mush, let her out." I ordered my fellow cape, and he slowly, hesitantly, moved to the side, the door falling to the floor in pieces.

"Finally! Now I can probably just chug water while I wait for the food." I was...unable to process for a moment. Kathleen, who not even a day ago was only 6-feet tall, was now at least 7-feet tall, and of course, bigger all around. She looked like a bodybuilder or pro wrestler, her T-shirt and shorts were barely clinging to her, torn and stretched around her. As for her hair which was the biggest indicator of her growth, it had grown so long it was at least halfway down her back. Her eyes were clearly glazed over and the roar from her six-pack abdomen was obvious as to what the rapid growth was doing to her in terms of energy expenditure.

"...First of all, Addictol to clear your head. Second, no more Surge, I think this may be the warning the crew needs in case they decide to be equally stupid. Third, how can those not be hurting your back." I pointed at the huge bowling balls on her chest stretching her shirt, and she just gave a lopsided grin.

"Because I'm a damn brick house." Kat giggled for some reason and then groaned in hunger. "Where's the fucking food?!" Kat furiously demanded of Mush, who cowered away from the towering amazonian Brute of a young woman. How is this my life? Powers, you just make things more complicated.


	13. Interlude 2a

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Fool**_

[Friday, October 29, 2010]

He reclined in the passenger seat, the back practically flat and the base slid back as far as possible and rested his feet on the dashboard of the van. He snickered, his whiter pistachio teeth still a gross mess, one he's been trying to fix for the first time in years the past week. "What's got you so cheery babe?" Sherrel asked him from the driver's seat, making Adam Mustain snort at his costumed girl's question.

"You gotta ask Squeals? We're made like fucking vikings right now! We're richer than we've ever been, we're healthy, or at least getting there, we're not all fucked up from stupid shit anymore. Life's fucking cherry right now!" Crowed the English immigrant. "I'm so damn glad Dealer fell in our laps. This is the best thing that's ever happened to us!" Adam gushed as he eyed his lover's form from the side, appreciating how the Surge was making her grow.

"Better than forming the Merchants and helping kick the Teeth out of the Bay?" Squealer asked curiously. It was a venture of their teenage years. A turbulent time when there were more big players for the city than the E88 and the ABB. The Teeth were, and still are, one of the absolute worst gangs on the East Coast of the USA. The only reason they were booted out of Brockton so hard was because ALL of the remaining capes following the Slaughterhouse 9's thankfully only visit decided on a Truce to take care of them. The Teeth's kill count was in the triple digits back then, and now it's almost in the quadruple digits over in both Boston and New York.

The fact the Slaughterhouse 9 did most of the work by the time the rest of the capes decided to remove such a threat wasn't important, the fact the Bay even Survived the Nine's visit was, and the Teeth were still a threat after the Nine decided to move on after turning on their back-then benefactors.

"Fuck yes. Back then...we started this because it was necessary. We wanted to help the city. Then we fell, hard. We flew high until the sun fucking burned our wings and sent us plummeting to the damned earth." Adam poetically mused, gritting his teeth until he thought they would crack. "This time...this time we won't fuck it up."

The van fell silent after Adam's hissed declaration, the sound of the engine and the radio the only sound for several minutes.

"So...when did this turn from a turf war into a crusade against the ABB?" Trainwreck asked curiously from the back. This van specifically only had one bench seat and the two front seats. These were the style the cargo vans used, and for people like Trainwreck was the only option. In the bench, Mush was idly looking at a crushed soda can, deep in thought.

"About the time after I dosed with Addictol and realized how much we've fucked up." Adam growled. "We were never supposed to be about selling drugs, or getting high. We were supposed to be a fucking Merchant Guild! Those groups were great for England's economy when parahuman Interceptors became a constant threat to shipping and business deals. They provided protection and also acted as middlemen for most all in-city shipping and deals, so Transporters only had to worry about the freeways and countryside."

"What? The Merchants were supposed to be...actual Merchants?" Trainwreck asked in surprise, getting nods out of Sherrel and Skidmark. "How...did it end up like this?"

"We got careless. We got shafted on a deal and hoodwinked by some sly fuckers. They didn't want a broker, they wanted a patsy. We ended up stuck with a truckload of powdered cocaine we had thought was for making medicine. Obviously in hindsight, it wasn't, and from that our reputations were in the shitter, and we had no money." Adam almost whispered the last part in shame after the anger he had at the start. "We needed capital after those fucks from the cartels left us high and dry, footing the bill, and taking the heat."

"We started selling. Just coke, it was all we had since it was dropped at our feet. Soon, shockingly soon. We had demand for product, but no supply…." Sherrel continued, sounding despondent as she maneuvered the van through the northern edge of the slums, nearing the abandoned industrial sector of the city where today's target was.

"Then, surprise-fucking-surprise! The cartel show up again. We were going to kill their messenger, but what he brought wasn't an apology, but the next best thing. A deal, and a cook, our first one. We started selling what he made, teaching more guys how to make more coke. Then meth. Then weed. So on, so forth. In exchange for a percentage of the profits, the cartel would supply us the ingredients." Adam fumed, ashamed that they took the deal back then. It was the seal on the proof the Archer's Bridge Merchants had lost their identity.

"Whoa. That's...that's fucking terrible. But what about the cartel now? Which cartel? Do we gotta worry about them coming around and asking where their money is?" Trainwreck asked worriedly, but he felt more at ease when they snorted in amusement.

"Fuck no. When the E88 got more prominent with more capes on the crew, and the ABB formed around Lung during his conquest of all the Asian gangs in the city when he came to the Bay almost 7 years ago, the cartel collected their cook, and booked. The Nazis and the Asians weren't about to ignore someone as high-profile as them, but we were already used to laying low in the gutters. Forgotten, or ignored." Adam solemnly revealed. "Hmph, we were too small-time to be bothered with. It takes us starting to knock the pegs out from under their fucking pagodas for them to notice."

"As for us still having suppliers, we'd made connections on the side to keep production up, and just in case the cartel got as flakey as they were to begin with. Kinda wish we didn't, but we were so stuck in our new ways. Getting high, selling, posturing." Sherrel sighed as she turned towards a small storage warehouse and parked in the lot.

"So now, they didn't bother with the fly, until it stung like the bee it really was." Mush commented, the oddly metaphorical phrase catching their attention. "What? I can be all fancy phrased too."

"What's got you so interested in those cans anyway?" Adam asked of his subordinate curiously, now that story time was over. Recently, Mush had replaced all of his usual trash with just crushed soda and beer cans.

"I'm just thinking about how fucking funny it is. People call this trash. Junk. But to me it's treasure. Especially once I soaked all these cans in that new batch of Balcoat Dealer whipped up Wednesday night." That got everyone's interest, and Adam chuckled.

"Well fuck. Guess under the rest of the garbage you've got a real layer of armor." Adam figured out with a grin. "Hey Train, you should get a dunk in Balcoat."

"That stuff is the most powerful epoxy I've ever seen. I can't possible do that without freezing up." Trainwreck huffed hollowly. "The fact we've been having to use paper to prevent things dipped in it bonding to floors and tables and then washing the paper off is just more proof it's dangerous to machinery."

"Then just dunk individual pieces at a time. That's what I've been doing." Sherrel advised as she patted the dashboard of her van and then knocking the solid steel windshield that had Clear Coat on the inside for a one-way window. "Far as I can tell, nothing can snap this thing's driveshaft and the timing chain might just last forever. Not to mention the frame and armor."

"Do you have Any clue how many millions of individual parts I'm made of? I'd have to spend-." Trainwreck was interrupted by the radio buzzing.

"This is the Peepers, we've got vantage over the site, Over." Came the professional tone of one of the crew's ex-military members, who were skilled enough marksmen to be put on the third group of special members, the Peepers. Skidmark picked up the receiver as he set his seat back in place.

"Roger that Peepers. How many of the pricks do you see from up in that flying bathtub? Uh, Over." Skidmark tacked on, since one of the Peepers was a stickler for radio protocol. He may be the leader, but some of these military types he had in his crew were fucking scary.

"It's a stealth-fielded flying boat." Ground out the Peeper on the line. He wasn't kidding, but rather underplaying it. Adam had next to no clue what Sherrel was getting at, other than it involved altering gravity or something. "As for bogeys, we have eyes on over twelve goons on guard duty. No idea how many could be inside, Over."

"Alright then, you five just keep a fair distance and an eye on things. If someone is too far off for the Jeepers or Creepers to deal with, or we can't do anything right away, you have the shot. But don't shoot too much, those bullets are fucking expensive." Adam cringed, since the five snipers up in their invisible cloaked flying boat all had bolt-action hunting rifles chambered for .30-06 hunting rounds. Fucking things can down a deer at over fuck-all yards. Only thing bigger in his mind was a goddamn fifty cal.

"You forgot to say Over, Over." Came a female Peeper's voice with full irritation and seriousness, and Adam huffed.

"Fine, fucking Over." Adam spat, hanging up the receiver and groaning. "Let's just get this over with."

"Before we jump out, are we sure a mid-day raid is a good idea?" Trainwreck stressed. Again. Adam huffed out a breath at having to remind his Steampunk Tinker Why a daytime raid was a good idea.

"Because, your contact told us to switch up the times for our raids. We've been robbing them at night for over a week by now. They'll wise up and get Oni Lee or Lung him-fucking-self to be ready to bolt for us the moment we show up at night again. Besides, we're so far from the white-hats and their goon squads the response time will be buggered." Adam mentally kicked himself for letting that extra bit of his origin leak through, but he didn't like explaining himself multiple times to the same people, so he'd have to live with them maybe getting he's not originally from here.

"Alright." Trainwreck reluctantly acquiesced, and after a few moments, Squealer pressed a few buttons on the radio, before picking up the receiver.

"Go, go, go!" She shouted, and Trainwreck bolted out of the back, slamming the doors. Adam and Mush jumped out of the passenger and side doors respectively, slamming their own doors as around the junk-filled parking lot, Jeepers streamed out of two other unseen vans, the 20 colorful muscleheads all bigger than they were last week and eager to work off some energy. Meanwhile, one van quietly disgorged the 10 invisible Creepers.

"Maachanto!" Screamed one of the lookouts as he took aim from up in the catwalks of the warehouse exterior with his AK47, only to scream as a gaping bullet hole formed in his torso, courtesy of a Peeper.

"Nice shot!" Adam praised with a cackle, rushing forwards next to Mush who had already covered himself with his shifting reinforced aluminum armor, and was rapidly picking up trash from all around, bulking up fast. "Straight for the warehouse doors! Tt said this is one of their biggest caches, so we've gotta clear a big opening!"

"One wrecking ball coming up!" Mush shouted over the ringing gunfire rattling his growing golem body as he gathered all the junk within his range. After he was as big as one of the vans, he rushed forward in a shoulder charge, and Adam set up several of his barriers around himself to deflect the incoming bullets back up towards the lookouts, who were now behind cover once they realized the Merchants had sniper support.

Not that the flimsy corrugated metal panels they ducked behind would do more than slow down the massive hunting cartridges of the Peepers, as one could attest when through the metal, one of the more skilled marksmen blew out his brains just from taking his body shape and position into consideration.

Adam cackled, trying to keep up the crazed facade as he flexed his powers expertly, something being clear-headed made so much easier. The longer everyone thought the Merchants were still hopped-up morons the better. He didn't have to try hard, especially once Mush reached the doors and barreled through the ancient and rusty sliding metal doors like they were tissue paper. However his grin turned into a frown upon seeing Mush having to contend with several other ABB gangers that instead had rocket and grenade launchers, which blasted huge sections of Mush's expanded body off.

"The fuck?! Where'd they get heat like that?!" Adam demanded of the universe as one of his heavies had to retreat back out into the lot, frantically gathering more of the litter and some of his lost mass back. "Train! We need some cover!" Adam screamed over the 'whoosh' of an incoming RPG, and he dropped several layers of barrier between it and him, managing to toss it for a loop up into the air and the disruption setting it off, raining fragments down around the area.

"Cover coming up!" Train declared as he pulled a huge rusty ball off his back, and tossed it at the doors. It didn't so much as explode as launch wires all around it, sharp hooks digging into metal, and concrete alike. The spring-trap then retracted, pulling along numerous pieces of junk and varied other bric-a-brak. The sudden junk mound was high enough to block immediate line-of-sight for the rest of the rocketeers, but Adam growled as the ones with grenade launchers fired over the mound, so he stretched a couple barriers over the smashed-in doors to let his crew finish up out here and get ready for a push.

Adam only had a few seconds to realize everything had gone to hell.

His eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat at the sight of the military-kitted murderer in the red Oni mask looking at him from the edge of the group of Jeepers with a string of pins pulled from his bandoleer of pineapple grenades. "ONI-!" Adam was thankful he still had several barriers up between himself and the suicide-bomber. He cringed at hearing the screams and curses of his men while the fragments of the exploded clone's grenades pummeled the ones at the back, but failed to puncture their armor and reinforced clothes.

Adam quickly made more barriers, dismissing several pointless ones to make a tight circle around himself with no room for another body, then kept his eyes wide open to try and be ready for the next-.

"BOLLOCKS!" Adam cursed as the homicidal cloning teleporter had popped up in the middle of his men this time, and he couldn't make any barriers from this sight angle to stop the man from repeating the act, sending the Jeepers screaming to the ground again, their outfits still saving their skins, but not saving them from the battering the fragments were giving them. "Mush, Train, get our boys to the-!"

Adam winced when he heard another chain of explosions and more screams. The deranged suicider wasn't even showing himself, just his clones. He could be anywhere in this sector of the city. There were catwalks and smoke stacks and all other sorts of vantage points the teleporter could be using to casually remote-suicide-bomb them and without anything to-.

"Skids!" Adam jolted in horror, hearing Sherrel call out meant she wasn't in the safety of her van.

"Squeals! Get back in-!"

"He's gone!" Sherrel declared in gleeful astonishment, which made Adam blink, and then after a few seconds without a repeat vestigial suicide, he looked around, seeing his men all hissing and groaning as they tried to get up, but no more Oni Lee clones. "The Peepers! They looked for where he was clone-sniping us and got him back. But they think he survived since the shot was so far away." Sherrel said as she pointed towards a smoke stack of an abandoned refinery that was almost a quarter mile off, fucking teleporters.

"Okay then...we're leaving! All of you who can move, help someone who can't!" Adam ordered as he dropped all the barriers save the one keeping the ABB grenadiers from finishing them off. His boys were in pieces, if at least not literally. He had no way of even finishing this, let alone making off with any goods. Adam helped up one of the Jeepers with the help of an invisible Creeper hoisting the injured man from the other side, the group having been in the wings had avoided injury it seems.

"Shit, sirens." Trainwreck called out in warning, the alternating low-high pitch of the PRT sirens was still far off, but they could be there in minutes, and they'd only helped 7 of the injured into the vans.

"C'mon fellas! Move faster!" Adam urged, using his barriers to start dragging his downed guys across the lot to the nearest vans, where invisible hands helped toss the groaning and coughing Jeepers in piles into the benches. Soon, everyone was safe and the rest of the crew, even the Creepers had made tracks.

"Still think a day raid was a good idea?" Trainwreck asked solemnly.

"Shut up." Adam growled without any real heat aimed at his subordinate, but more at himself as they got into their own van, Mush having easily sifted his cans out from the rest of the junk he'd been using and gotten in just as a PRT van and Miss Militia, one of the Protectorate heroes, turned into the lot, and Adam wasn't just going to let the white-hats face the heat inside the warehouse without warning, so he gave them the courtesy of waiting outside the open passenger door of Squealer's invisible van and putting a couple barriers between himself and them.

Miss Militia had stopped her American chopper, part of her image, and swiftly jumped into action, her power, a green amorphous energy that turned into nearly any weapon turned into a carbine and the olive-skinned woman put him in her iron sights. As usual whenever he saw her, Adam appreciated how form-fitting her custom army fatigues flaunted her curvy form, since she had a body that could easily rival Sherrel's. "Skidmark! You are under-!"

"-Arrest, yeah, not today! You should be more worried about the ABB fucks in there!" Adam interrupted Miss Militia and pointed at the warehouse with his barrier still covering the wrecked door. "They've got fucking RPGs and grenade launchers! Shit's too hot for us, so would you be so kind as to do your damn jobs and get it off the street?!" Adam indignantly demanded. Shit like that wasn't supposed to be in civilized areas in his opinion.

"Put your hands-!" The woman's dedication was impressive, but Adam had no patience for the song-and-dance from the American flag-bandana wearing middle-eastern woman, so he flipped her off as he slammed the van door shut, ignoring the gunshots and Sherrel moved the van towards the other end of the lot as Skidmark let his barriers down. Dangerous explosives or not, he had faith the Heroine would be fine, she'd faced worse.

Things were silent for several minutes, before Adam put his face in his hands. "Ffffffffuck…."

"We're gonna need time to recover from this." Sherrel pointed out needlessly, and Adam sighed.

"At least thanks to us, the white-hats will get that stash off the streets, that's something." Adam consoled himself with the thought. "Still gotta pay Tats for the info though, that's gonna fucking suck."

"She may waive her fee since she didn't think Oni Lee would be there." Trainwreck commented, but Adam sighed again.

"No, her intel was good, she gets paid. We've gotta lick our wounds, but we'll bounce back. We always do." Adam looked out the window, contemplative, wiser.


	14. Chapter 11

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Reaction 2.2**_

[Sunday, October 31, 2010]

"Do you feel anything?" I asked my assistant, carefully removing the needle of the syringe to be put through a decontamination wash and soak, the rest would be recycled. At the rate I've ended up going through these syringes, I'd need to make another supply run within a few days, but that wouldn't be as much of a problem since I could just ask some mooks to make a trip.

As for Kat, she had apparently hit the limit of her growth at near 7 feet even when she overdosed last Monday, which I was thankful for. The massive woman was hard enough to work around as it is, considering her muscles were so dense it was hard to inject her veins outside of her elbows, and she'd taken to brazenly imposing on my personal space with even more regularity.

"Is it supposed to be instant?" Kat asked, staring at her broken left ring finger. She'd broke it trying out how much she could lift. Answer; a lot. I don't know how much weight flipping a broken tinkertech van involves, but I understand that's enough to be clearly considered for a Brute rating from the PRT. "Ow!" Suddenly, the splinted ring finger twinged, and the swelling rapidly went down. "Tits! I can already feel the pain fading."

"Good, let's keep a monitor on this." I was finally using the results of my Salve's sludge in a crucial experiment. My power had practically throttled me for forgetting about it with pulsing headaches, and I had to make things with it. If I'm right, I may have just made a form of Stimpack. Uber and Leet did an episode based on some sort of post-apocalypse game once, and this was very similar to a prop they used to heal a German Shepard's broken leg almost within seconds. Needless to say that episode was one of their most popular ones.

"I think it's almost fully healed." Kat looked in awe at her finger after just about two minutes. "So is this a one-time thing? Or is it like Surge's permanent benefits?" Hm, good question.

"I am not fully sure. It could very well keep your healing at an accelerated rate, considering the bacteria it's made of are sympathetic to the body's natural healing processes, or it could only be boosting it right now and your body could cannibalize it like it does with Addictol, or, it could even improve your healing so much you regenerate. Without extensive testing, we won't know." I reminded my assistant, who often let her mind wander. I think I would've liked her, she seemed my kind of person.

"And that's my job, right. So just keep getting hurt?" Kat asked worriedly, and I shrugged. She was the willing guinea pig, I was leaving most of the executive decisions on testing to her. "Meh, if I notice anything after an injury, I'll let you know. What's next?"

"I'm still not comfortable with the next one yet. I'd rather we wait on that one until I get another idea fleshed out." Despite how much my brain was aching to know the results, if I was right, it would forever change Kat even further, and without that other product first, it was much more dangerous. "That aside, I need to make more Salve, and treat more flesh injuries with it to get more of the resource bacteria cultures." The bacteria from the sludge was not as flexible as most bacteria, it didn't breed very fast and it was especially weak to light. The more I could possibly farm, the better.

"Still can't believe Oni Lee just spammed grenades in the middle of the Jeepers like that." Kat brought up, since I was indeed treating the victims from Friday's botched daytime raid with my Salve, which was enough for all the surface injuries, but I did what I could with the wonderous paste, stabilizing everyone that practically had their skin split under their reinforced clothes and armor from the grenade fragments repeatedly striking them.

Despite my efforts however, a couple of the Jeepers were so badly injured that we had to strip them down to normal clothes and leave them outside Brockton General's ER, so they could get proper medical attention. Hopefully from Panacea, those broken ribs were far too risky. The rest who got blasted as well had mostly fractured bones, deep bruising, and lacerations on top of the split skin.

It was good fortune then that in the past week, our successes before Friday meant Squealer could just buy some of the materials she needed, and finally got the Peepers their platform. An invisible flying boat. It sounds like the stuff of fantasy fiction, but it was all tinker science. She more or less turned the former speedboat into a contained gravity manipulating mode of transportation. It could near-silently move in any direction as if it was 'falling' in that direction at various speeds while maintaining its upright position and negating all inertia on everything inside the field.

So with that sort of vantage point supplied, the Peepers, who all being ex-military wore their old fatigues with gas masks, got outfitted with hunting rifles long enough to poke just past the inertia field and had short-range radios to help coordinate things, which was why they were able to thankfully save our guys. This was still a big hit to our momentum and morale though. The crew decided to lay off the ABB while the Jeepers healed, and I, being our resident Biotinker, was set to work finding a way to speed up healing. Or rather, make it happen. Surge already sped up healing, but not much more than a peak human's recovery rate.

Not to mention it was my fault to begin with.

Those poor men out there would not be in this mess if I had not stayed to help the Merchants. If I had not made Balcoat so soon, if I had instead made Addictol straight off, or maybe some other product, the Merchants would not have moved on to violence so soon. I may not feel regret, but I know for fact that I must do all I can, or what little of my humanity I have is lost.

Also my self-help books advise that if I cannot emotionally empathize with people, then I must intellectually acknowledge their value as a person and try to help if I can.

"Yo, Deal." I blinked, having gotten lost in thought. It was something I did a lot of these days. I wasn't much of a space-head before I triggered, but now my mind had so many things to occupy it. The two melon-sized breasts my assistant is shoving into my mask not being any of them. "Yo Deal~ snap out of it."

"Kindly remove your mammaries from my face." I demanded, I did not like having my personal space invaded. I prefer having freedom of movement without someone touching me.

"Dear god dude. You have absolutely no traits of a man." Kathleen huffed as she acquiesced and backed away. She had not updated her clothing at all, preferring to stretch her shirts out with her bosom into belly-baring shirts, and she kept her shorts since they stretched over her wide hips still. Also she said the cold didn't bother her as much now, so I had no complaints so long as she wasn't uncomfortable. "How forward do I need to be?"

"Try again in one year and 17 days." I blandly reminded her of my age, and she rolled her eyes as she combed her mane of lustrous black hair back with her fingers.

"And on that note of you reminding me you're more of a kid than me, why aren't you out celebrating at some party or something?" Kathleen asked, since of course as the 31st, it was Halloween. Ironically, before I triggered it was my favorite holiday too. Now though, I couldn't care less. It was a pointless and extravagant waste of time and energy. So were most holidays in fact. I hope mom isn't upset for me saying we shouldn't celebrate anything earlier in the week.

"No. My time is best spent working. Progress waits for no-one." I factually replied, and she sighed.

"I hope you can tinker a way out of that ice cold state boss." Kat commented not for the first time before she turned to leave. "Well, later then. I'm going back to exercising and helping Sherrel finish her project for tonight's event." Sherrel felt comfortable giving us her name recently, something I extended in return since I had trust in her as a person. We still didn't know Skidmark's name, Mush said his name might as well not exist, and Trainwreck sulked for some reason when the topic of...wait, what did Kat say?

"Wait, what? First, how can you exercise and help her at the same time, and second, what event?" I had no information on any event going on tonight. Don't tell me Skidmark decided to do something asinine like throwing a Halloween party to raise morale or something equally pointless. Wait, no. Priorities Andrew, that's not pointless. Morale can make or break any situation.

"I'm doing heavy lifting and holding things in place. She's slapping together a junk rig for a show." Kat replied, so I moved to follow the tall and wide-framed woman.

"What show?" I asked, and she chuckled.

"For someone without emotions, you really have a lot of curiosity. Why not talk to the other capes, they're running it." Kat said in response, so I now had no other logical way to get an answer than to do as she suggested, but first to clarify something.

"Curiosity is a drive to pursue knowledge. One does not need emotion to drive one to learning. There is such a thing as learning for the sake of itself." I informed my muscular companion, who just again sighed.

"Great, the guy I like is a cold-as-ice egghead. I used to think I just liked tall guys." She joked, clearly, as I was well about a foot shorter than her. Now anyhow, I had been nearly a foot taller when she started out.

"Dealer~!" I was suddenly waylaid by Skidmark having snuck up on me and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "It's about time you came out of that stuffy lab! We've got a damn fun gig planned for tonight!" Skidmark cheered as Kat moved on without me to supposedly do as she said she was going to.

"Perfect. I was actually looking for someone in the know about whatever this event is. I've not heard a thing about it." I stated, hoping to get a straight answer.

"Oh it's going to be grand! We're going to totally pull a showstopper! Fucking jaws will hit the pavement and minds will be blown!" Skidmark, of course, just threw pointless drivel out instead of actual information.

"That does not tell me much." I informed, wishing I could be irritated as he practically pushed me onward with his left arm around my shoulders.

"Well, it's kinda meant to be a big fucking deal. I didn't have anything for you to do so I just figured I'd leave you to tinker instead of pulling you away." Skidmark continued to drone on, would he just tell me already?

"I'm still waiting to hear what's going on." I reminded my boss, who sighed theatrically as we neared the loading bay. This area of the fishery was meant for Squealer's biggest rigs, the motor pool was actually only supposed to be for the vans, which was why her monster truck was still stuck in the motor pool since the doors were too small and she wasn't willing to disassemble it and move it here.

"Alright you damn robot. Friday was a wakeup call, since the ABB already has military gear and by now have figured we have our shit together, we've decided it's time to show the city we're serious." Skidmark said as he maneuvered us through a surprisingly busy crowd of Merchants all working on various things, who weren't outright combat-capable members yet, but getting there.

"How does showing our hand help anything?" I truly doubted this was a good idea. Did Skidmark fall back into some drugs again?

"Dealer, Dealer, Dealer. You need to read some political and psychological books with those science books you've been burying yourself in. But the basis of it is this; shock, and awe." Skidmark gestured to an unfinished rig that Squealer was slapping together from what seemed to be a rusty school bus and a bulldozer, with help from Trainwreck, Mush, and Kat doing heavy lifting and helping put it together in general.

"That's...a military term though." Skidmark groaned at me, and I realized I obviously missed whatever he was talking about.

"Dear god my newest tinker is so damn green. You've gotta get some education kid, I'm glad you're still going to school right now." Ouch, I'll take that into consideration. "Basically, tonight, with some help, we're going to be announcing our changes in our ways to the city and the world. While the Jeepers are getting healed up, I and the rest of the crew aren't gonna just sit on our asses waiting." Hmm, much more logical than I believed then, since how organized we've become will clearly out the gang's sobriety soon enough anyway.

"Fair enough. But what help do you speak of?" I caught that little nugget amidst the rest. Is he saying what I think he is?

"Well I wanted to make as big an appearance as possible. So I forked out some dough for some experts at making really big fucking appearances." Skidmark smirked, and I about wanted to smack him for doing exactly what I had assumed.

"You can't seriously tell me you've hired-."

"Ladies and Gentlemen~!" Came an exuberant declaration from the dark empty area of the loading bay. "Announcing~! UBER! AND! 1337~!" I watched the sight of the two infamous video game aficionados suddenly being illuminated by a spotlight as confetti and streamers rained down. They were wearing extremely stereotypical outfits of thematic Mexican Luchadores.

The taller, beefier one I could assume was Uber wore a sleeveless jumpsuit and his mask along with everything below it was themed with the Mexican style skull often associated with the Day of the Dead. The shorter, lanky one I figured was Leet wore a full-body suit styled with what I think were rather graphic depictions of the Chupacabra considering the goat-like images being viciously slaughtered and eaten by a demonic beast. "Yay." I blandly responded to the situation, getting the two to visibly sulk and Skidmark to cackle.

"Told ya nothing fucking phases him! Nice try though." Skidmark patted my shoulder and wandered towards the others.

"Damn it, I thought for sure he was screwing with us." Leet grumbled, clearly not believing I was a sociopath before. "Well anyway, I'm-."

"Leet, the most flexible yet most inflexible tinker on the planet. Then you're Uber, the most adaptable man in the world. Good work on the entrance. Would have worked on anyone but me." I appraised, but Leet looked about to snap at me for interrupting, but Uber just held up a hand, and walked closer with consideration in his eyes.

"How's this?" He asked, and I had no idea what he was talking about.

"I do not comprehend-."

"You don't see where this is going yet. We're going to be adding some extra muscle and some theme to your crew's announcement." I had gathered as much, Uber.

"I had gathered as-."

"It's also a good way to prove the Merchant's are actually a Player in the Game now." Uber interrupted me again, I don't like it, but thus far he's been more helpful than anyone else.

"Obviously, but-."

"It's also a good way to raise your crew's morale. We heard what happened with Oni Lee. We'd offer to help, but the Stimpack started hissing when we tried to use it lately and we're not exactly willing to risk whatever it might do." Uber explained, quite nice of him to continue to outline things, I may have already gathered-. "That said, we could also use this as a starting point for our two operations to work together. I think between you guys and us, we'd be able to accomplish more."

I think I'm in love, or whatever non-hormonal variant of it there is. "Why can't everyone be as blunt and informative as you?" Truly, the world needed more people such as this man.

"He's just working his powers on you. It takes him a little bit, but he needed to see how you interact to work out the best approach. Guess blunt honesty is just the best way to work with you huh?" Leet figured, and I nodded.

"Yes. Why say things in such convoluted and roundabout ways? When there are important things to discuss, discuss them. Wordplay is all well and good, but there is a time and place, and explanation is not one of them." I declared, finally able to outright talk objectively without having to egg my conversation partner on to the point.

"Yep, we're gonna help you out, because you'll help us out. We're being paid, but after seeing that amazon with the chest melons and all these former junkies completely stone sober, we're going to waive some of our fee for some jugs of Surge." Leet posed, flexing his nonexistent muscles, his skin-tight spandex was not at all flattering of his scrawny frame or his potbelly.

"Yes, again, speaking of which. Just what is this event? All I get is that it involves you two, that big rig over there, and an announcement. It's Halloween, there's all sorts of public venues we could be crashing for this." I had figured out that much, but which one?

"It should be fairly obvious, but we're going to crash the annual block-party over on the Boardwalk." Uber said as if it wasn't a big deal.

"That is suicidal. The Boardwalk is dangerous on a normal day, the Wards are guaranteed to be there for publicity. Not to mention the Protectorate and PRT will be on-call for tonight. We're not going to be the only ones using All Hallows Eve as an excuse for an outing." I was concerned, justifiably. This could quite easily turn into a bust.

"Yup, which is why we're here!" Uber and Leet said in choreographed stereo and posed again. In response I promptly began heading towards my workshop. "Hey! Where're you going?" They perfectly said again in unison.

"To finish a couple of idle toys I was working on. Now I might need them before tonight. I hope you have some of your more ridiculous shenanigans ready." I said as I power walked through the fishery back to my lab.

I quickly got back to mixing a small mason jar I had set aside since it was just a side project, but knowing Murphy, I would need it rather than just want it. After I had finished mixing it with some cocoa powder, I proceeded to feed some of it into an old reusable bug-bomb style spray canister, and filled it with the butane, then did the same with a small empty spray deodorant can, which were more convenient to carry around once I figured out how to refill them.

With that done, I then pulled open a drawer, and picked up a very long-strapped slingshot I made myself. But this wasn't just some toy. I made it from an orange chemical utility pipe which is some of the strongest plastic on the consumer market, a 50 pound draw black tube band from exercise bands bought at the mall, a small leather pouch with an exposed high tensile strength nylon thread. Of course, the whole thing was reinforced carefully with Balcoat in specific places.

I fished out a cheap store-bought plastic arrow with a cheap carbon arrowhead from the drawer, It too had been reinforced. I rested the shaft in the sharp crook of the slingshot's Y, then nocked it in the strap's string that was strung through the pouch.

I aimed down the lab at a target I painted onto the wall, pulled back until the head was touching the slingshot using the reinforced pouch as my draw aid, and fired it dead center in the bullseye. It sank in almost halfway into the metal sheeting, proving my weapon would be just as deadly as it was quiet and compact.

No wonder Slingbows are illegal in 18 states.


	15. Chapter 12

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Reaction 2.3**_

[Sunday, October 31, 2010]

I was sitting in the passenger seat of my own designated cargo van, which only had Rahj, Howard, and I aboard. Along with what I would formerly consider to be an unsettling amount of illegal fireworks in the back. I was still in the dark on the hows of the operation, just that I was to try and stay out of direct sight, and when things got hairy, to book it. None of the crew wanted to risk me, since I was the source of most of our successes of late.

I could understand that, but the slingbow in my left coat pocket, the reinforced ¼ inch steel quarrels in my right pocket, and the quiver of arrows on my back were extra assurance to my safety regardless. That along with the fact I was supposed to at least try to be ready to escape, I and my lieutenants, read; Howard and Rahj, were going to handle the pyrotechnics display which would supposedly be on the fringe of things, so when, not if, a serious cape battle broke out, we could set off the fireworks display and make for our van.

It would also give me a good vantage point too all things considered, all I would immediately have to be concerned with were any fliers or people capable of rapid building traversal. Even then I had nothing to really be concerned with however, the Peepers apparently had a nasty but non-lethal surprise for most anyone who crashes us crashing the party.

"Okay fellas. Remember, once the display is set up, I want you two back in this van." Of course, I wasn't going to risk Howard and Rahj. They were Normals. Sober, capable, and getting healthier and stronger by the day or not, they were still normal people. "It will be easier for a single person to escape than three." Also there was logic.

"Got it boss. Don't like it, but got it." Rahj confirmed, Howard just nodded. "Okay, we're under the fire escape." Rahj informed me as he pulled to a stop in a tight alley just behind the Boardwalk on the cityside. It was really tight, fitting a van back here. The crowds were also a challenge, I had no clue how Squealer was going to get that big bus into the main thoroughfare of the city's biggest Halloween party which was regularly busy as a rule for the biggest tourist attraction in the city.

"Alright, I'll go first, you stay in the van Rahj. Be ready to drive, but you're also handing the fireworks up. Howard, you're ferrying the fireworks up the escape." I ordered, and then squeezed my bulk between the seats and around the outside of the bench. I unlatched the hatch in the roof, a common feature of the vans that were seldom used, and opened it quietly.

Once the hatch door was settled against the roof, I pulled myself up through the hatch, grunting with effort and having to shimmy my overweight gut and butt through the opening meant for people of average girth. My costume didn't help with its bulky nature, but once I got my hips through it was a simple thing to pull the rest of my coat and legs up. I moved to the well-maintained fire escape, and carefully unlatched and lowered the ladder behind the van. Rahj got the placement perfect, it went straight to the ground so he was clearly far enough forward but close enough for us to use the van as a platform.

I then looked behind me and saw Howard had easily gotten on the roof with me, and was picking up a milk crate of fireworks from the hatch. "Okay Boss, here's the first crate, I'll bring up the rest while you set up." Howard quietly said through his ski mask, the fog his breath made in the surprisingly cold late October air a testament that even if he weren't doing something shady, he'd still be wearing that mask.

"Good, we've got about twenty minutes before the others show up." I reminded my minion, and then moved up the short bit of ladder and as quietly as possible navigated up the three flights of stairs, and then used the roof access ladder to reach the gravel-coated roof of one of the Boardwalk's more modern buildings, and also the tallest.

I fully expected who I came upon on the roof.

I recognized him too, Kid Win. Last I saw him was when I smashed out Gallant's left knee. I had been quiet enough that he didn't hear me even with the gravel thanks to the noise the music and crowds below were causing.

This wasn't supposed to be as much a problem as it may seem. We had a plan for this, so I would try that first. I pressed a small button on the outside lower right of my mask, bonded there with Balcoat and had a wire running not uncomfortably into a radio in the mask by my mouth, so I could whisper. "Peepers, this is Dealer. I've got a bird in the nest, Over."

I didn't have to wait long to hear a response. "Dealer this is Peepers, got him in sight. Commencing distraction, Over." The woman of the five snipers responded, and shortly, an agonized bloodcurdling scream pierced the din of the crowd, and Kid Win responded immediately, rushing off the roof on his hoverboard to investigate while reporting on his own comm like the green hero he was, he should've stayed up here on overwatch if he had better training.

The distraction? Capsaicin Paintballs. Not. Pleasant. More than enough to draw attention away from the roof. I just hope it was some rich jerk who got pegged and not some random partygoer. I picked up the milk crate of pyrotechnics Howard had left by the ladder down and quickly strode to the center of the roof, upturning the milk crate and placing it upside-down next to the small pile of fireworks, which were nothing more than cheap skyrockets. This wasn't some complicated ordeal, I was just placing the skyrockets with their stabilizing pegs through the diamonds of the milk crate, spacing them apart so they wouldn't run afoul of each other.

Howard had delivered and set down the next crate while I was setting the first one up, which I moved on to once I had the long fuses all twisted together at varied lengths so they would go off slightly apart instead of simultaneously. It was both for prolonging the show as well as helping reduce the likelihood of collision and subsequent danger.

We kept up the process for several minutes, hurriedly setting up firework displays so it'd be ready before the party was well and truly crashed. In that time, the Peepers had tagged a couple more unfortunate people, keeping the Wards busy with investigating as well as starting to direct people to vacate since the 'pranksters' were going to ruin the event for everyone. Oh how right they were, but this was no elaborate prank.

"Aren't fireworks illegal this time of year?" I casually finished twisting together the fifth crate of skyrockets, and dusted myself as I stood to look across the roof at my own sort of party crashers. Kid Win and Aegis.

"Yes." I answered bluntly, and moved to the sixth and last crate, since with the Wards aware, Howard wouldn't be able to bring up the other two crates. "However it is a dark and cold night, one of revelry and reflection. What better time is there for a display?" I overturned the last crate, and kicked up a rocket when Kid Win aimed his laser pistol at me, and he shot it in a kneejerk that caused a brilliant flash of a red shower of sparks that was thankfully turned to the side.

Immediately after that, Kid cried in pain and clutched his neck where a pepper ball had hit the gap between his visor and armored suit, and Aegis flew straight at me. Knowing his durability, I grabbed an arrow from my quiver, and stabbed it at his incoming right fist while ducking under him, ignoring his grunt of pain from the reinforced projectile punching through his fist and into his forearm. Before he could recover from the move, I let go of the shaft and shoulder tackled his exposed gut to get room.

I rolled to the side before he stomped down, his superhuman strength crunching the gravel where I'd been and I drew my slingbow. I had to abort loading it as Aegis casually flew straight at me again, but this time I was ready for more than dodging. I whipped my empty slingbow at his outstretched left fist, the strengthened strap a tempting target for him to grab, just what I wanted. "Surrender now!" Aegis demanded once it was obvious I wasn't willing to let go of my weapon.

"Those are my words." I...felt something. Anticipation I guess? Power, you are so fickle with my emotions. I held up the bug bomb I loaded up before coming out tonight with my right hand from inside my coat while noticing that the other Wards were up here now, surrounding me. Vista, Clockblocker, Gallant kneeling over Kid Win, even Shadow Stalker. The whole party was here, obviously thanks to the short Shaker. Perfect.

"What is that?" Aegis demanded with a controlled amount of frustration and concern.

"Basically a bacterial infection that causes instant projectile vomiting and explosive diarrhea. Airborne. Easily treated with antibiotics and exterminated with traditional disinfectants. I have several of these bombs seeded over the area, and if our little show is interrupted…." I let hang as I thumbed the release tab. "I call it the Sick Spray. Not even you could avoid it's effects, because rerouting your breathing or not, your bowels and stomach won't stop involuntary convulsions. Plenty distraction enough to disable you."

"Aegis...we should back off. All he's displaying is pure Anticipation." Gallant growled, and I shook the dangerous can of bacteria. Thank you Power for that singular emotion I'm trying to hold back, and thank you Gallant for letting them know I was definitely going to use my trump card. At least they don't know I didn't have nearly enough time to set up other bombs.

"...Everyone back off." Aegis reluctantly ordered and slowly let go of my slingbow, which I snapped like a whip and caused them all to jolt.

"Get going. You have a show to watch." I ominously alluded, and eyed them with the bug bomb still in my grip, ready to set off and not easing my hold on it in case Vista got any ideas to just grab it with that impressive spacial distortion power of hers. It was only now that I noticed someone on a slightly lower roof holding something up towards us. Probably another gawker filming for that disjointed PHO site.

"Ladies~! And~! Gentlemen~!" At hearing the carrying announcement wash over everything due to some sort of invention of Leet's, I relaxed a bit and walked towards the edge away from them, getting the Wards to prepare for a fight, but I flipped them off with my left hand still holding my slingbow to wordlessly inform them I didn't care, and began to watch the spectacle for some cue. I don't know how, and I probably don't want to know regardless, but there it was. "Happy Halloween~!" Declared Uber, standing upon the traveling collapsible wrestling ring that used to be a wrecked school bus and bulldozer that had parked in front of the Boardwalk's biggest high-society attraction; Parian's Dollhouse, the not as tall building next door to the one the Wards and I were on where the Rogue had giant puppet theater shows and showcased her clothing.

"Sorry for the pepper balls folks! Had to clear a path for the tour bus!" Skidmark stepped onto the stage, dressed as usual but in vertical black and white stripes like a referee. He was fairly imposing since over the last few weeks he'd become less scrawny and his health was clearly on the rise. "Ep-ep-ep! Don't you do anything regretful now!" Skidmark pointed up at the Wards and on cue, numerous gun turrets to fold out of the front of the stage which got several people milling in the crowd to scream as the turrets aimed at them, making the junior heroes freeze. "I mean really, so rude right Uber?"

"I'd say so Skidmark! This isn't a comedy routine, so hecklers aren't exactly welcome." Uber ominously hinted as several van doors around the immediate area of the stage opened in the air, and out dumped dozens of Merchants decked out in the colorful spandex bodysuits without invisibility and glowing rave bands on their necks, wrists, and ankles. The fact the crew was getting fit and healthy was put on further display by them, since members of both genders were clearly causing parents to cover their children's eyes, while teens gawked in surprise as the skintight-clad people loosely surrounded the crowd from the sides of the stage.

"But, it is a party! C'mon Leet, crank out some music!" Skidmark crowed enthusiastically, and then Leet, appearing in a sort of floating half-ovoid from some egg-themed video game villain he'd called the 'Egg Mobile'. Whatever it was, he used it to start broadcasting club music I distantly remembered was called French House. "C'mon everyone! Dance!" Skidmark declared, doing so himself, and I had to wonder what the point of this exactly was. I get posturing is important and all, but wouldn't it be better to just outright deliver the message and escape? Every moment we spend monkeying around was another moment the Protectorate could show up or the Wards not ten feet from me got ideas.

Then again, seeing the spandex-clothed Merchants dancing enthusiastically and actually getting laughter and some applause from the literal captive audience led me to believe the nonsense was to catch people on the back foot. "Okay, that's enough revelry. Our compatriots have some important things to say tonight." Uber announced, getting Leet to theatrically cause a record scratch, and whine in disappointment. "Sorry Leet, no wrestling match."

"Yeah, sadly we can't stay and just party, as fun as it would be." Skidmark dramatically sighed like some Victorian lady suffering too much nonsense. "Now then, you must be wondering; Skids, why aren't you cursing our ears off? Well I've got some big news Brockton bay!" Skidmark waited for dramatic tension. "I'm stone-cold sober." His voice dropped in tone, his vicious grin unsettling, and the way the crowd shuffled and tensed told he had accomplished what he wanted.

"Yes, indeed. Not only has Skidmark cleaned up his act, the whole crew of the Merchants has as well. Which their now-former clients can attest to from the past few days, and why we were even willing to be here tonight." Uber dramatically declared to give Skidmark more steam to build off of.

"Yep! We're clean! We're done! This city, from the dirtiest gutter to the shiniest parapet is just coated with a residue of Addiction. A filter of lies and pain to try and paint a rosy fff-fudging picture over the truth." Skidmark groused in a dire tone, his sneer enhanced by his still-disgusting teeth. "The Archers Bridge Merchants were supposed to be a Guild. We were supposed to help protect and move product for clients. One bad day turned that product into drugs and drugs only. But no more. I have come here tonight, to tell this city and the world at large. We are the Merchants! And we will do what we did in the first place, and kick the scum out of the city. Either help us, or stay out of the way. If you don't. We Go Through You." Skidmark declared with a leer at the Wards, who were still frozen in place from the threat the turrets posed to the crowd.

Skidmark took a cleansing breath from his tirade. "It's time, to Pick Your Poison."

Skidmark threw up several barriers across the wrestling ring, and his anticipation was well timed because several tranquilizer rounds were intercepted and flung into the crowd, who screamed as Leet vanished, courtesy of his hovercraft being modified by Squealer, since although it wasn't her tech, it was Transportation, and she could easily fix it whenever it needed to be she told them, another reason the villain duo were willing to help out.

That aside, I didn't stay to watch the rest of the fallout. I spun around as the remote-controlled turrets -actually modified paintball guns with more capsaicin balls rather than proper guns- opened fire, and ran for the fireworks as I dropped a different bug bomb loaded with a chemical aerosol that would cause a dense fog to blanket the area, a simple thing. Once I reached the last crate I had dumped, I grabbed a small propane torch and lighter the pile had in order to quickly light the fuses as I roadie-ran back to the fire escape. Oof, my thighs.

I grunted as a crossbow bolt impacted me, thankfully not penetrating my reinforced costume. In response, I tossed the burning torch at the dumped pile of fireworks, spinning back around I jumped down to the top of the escape in time for the pile to violently explode and send random skyrockets screaming. Shortly after that, the first bundle of display fireworks went off. I paused long enough to look up and see the colorful Red and Green lights bloom in the sky, and then took off down the stairwells.

I was almost down the stairwell of the escape when a shadowy mass floated down and through the ironwork over me, and I almost fell when a full-body tackle landed on my back. "Mother fucker! I'm going to gut you!" Stalker's voice...Hess? Well, that explains a good bit. I casually jumped backwards off of the fire escape, and Stalker turned into her intangible shadow state before impact. Before Surge, such a fall would've killed or crippled me, now it just stung and made me grunt in pain. "Game over bitch!" Stalker crowed as she returned to normal over me, ready to land feet-first on my gut.

"Sure." The back doors of the van sprang open, and Howard aimed his shotgun without hesitation, shooting the falling 'hero' with incendiary birdshot as I rolled out of the way, and got up, casually ignoring the young woman's blood-curdling screams of agony as she tried to roll the fire out with probably fractured ankles and numerous cauterized wounds with tiny pellets stuck in her. She's just lucky her costume was full-covering and armored, else she'd definitely be dead already. "Game over, Bitch."

I wondered if my dry inflection made that sound good, and slammed the back doors of the van shut as I climbed in. Rahj took that as the signal to book it, and we rocketed out of the tight back alley and down the side roads towards the fishery, a pathetic excuse of a 'hero' still screaming in the alley.

[Pick Your Poison]

I pressed rewind on the remote, and pressed play. I am unsure how many times I had done so, but I was watching a recording of the late-night news, about our declaration of intent, aka; War. The reporters who had caught the film were 'lucky' enough to have been caught in the middle of things, so they got a figurative front-row seat of the action, including capturing the How of how the bus had just popped up in front of Parian's Dollhouse.

Apparently, Leet had a large-scale teleporter they used to warp the bus and it's contents, aka, Skidmark and Uber, to a cleared spot that the Peepers' pepper balls had helped clear in front of the Dollhouse. Thankfully Parian was busy elsewhere in the city fitting a high-profile client for their custom halloween costume, or the display would've definitely been interrupted by her inflatable dolls. We had Tats to thank for that bit of info.

Regardless, the news was of course painting it in as grim a tone as possible, especially with Hess, sorry, Shadow Stalker hospitalized in critical condition. Fear and Hate sells after all. They were more focused on how the crew had penned civilians in and held them hostage so the Wards couldn't do anything, but they couldn't leave out Skidmark's announcement and even some shots of the members dancing in spandex. I didn't miss how the camera homed in on the women with the more pronounced figures or the men with the better musculature. Sex sells too after all.

I was still...hard to explain. I don't know the term for it, what could the closest thing to relief be without feeling it? Regardless, whatever it was my mind substituted relief with, I was experiencing it at realizing the whole crew more or less got off scot free. The dancers had skedaddled the moment the tranquilizers ricocheted into the crowd, having dashed for their vans as the turrets and Peepers covered them, and Skidmark and Uber got away when Leet's remote teleporter warped them and the bus back to the fishery.

Leet said the teleporter would have to spend at least a week in downtime before it could be used again, said it was a design flaw he couldn't fix. Squealer said that while it was Transportation, her power metaphorically scratched its head and shrugged. She still got ideas from it and said she could tweak or maintain it, but building her own wasn't in the stars for now.

That got me to ask them if only Tinkers seemed to personify their powers, because I did so, Squealer obviously did, and Leet even complained about how fickle his own power was. Apparently it was an unknown, they shrugged and figured it probably was the case, since nobody heard of anyone technically 'communicating' with their powers like Tinkers did.

I turned off the VCR that someone in the crew had used to record the news broadcast, for posterity apparently. "Done now?" Asked my assistant, who was lounging on the couch, stretched across it with ease and casually resting her legs in my lap.

"Yes Kat, you can watch your low-brow late night television now." I stated, getting a bruising kick from her heel in my gut for my snark. "Watch the strength Kat."

"Shit, sorry. But don't diss Ray Reno." Kat sheepishly replied as she took the TV remote from me and flicked to her channel. "By the way, it seems to be permanent."

"Hm? The Stim?" I asked for clarification and she casually fetched a pocket knife from nearby and ran it over her palm to draw blood. I watched, and she casually wiped the cut on her shirt to reveal it had closed already. "Good. I'll get to administering the Stims to the injured in the crew immediately." It was definitely permanent, the human body would've eliminated or cannibalized the bacteria by now if it was going to at all, it would seem it had a symbiotic relationship with the human immune and recovery systems.

"Make as much as you can. Anyone who gets a shot will heal quicker." Kat smiled with her teeth on display, and I blinked at seeing the rotten teeth looking healthier, and there even seemed to be some missing ones growing back in. "And even regenerate what they've lost. I've been drinking a ton of milk to get these growing quicker when I realized what was happening." Kat hefted her bosom at that, and I nodded in understanding despite her lewd approach.

"I see, that is rather potent. At least it isn't anything ridiculous like Lung's regeneration, that would have been outright unusual." As well as overpowered. Still, a whole gang with a healing factor, a minor brute rating on top of that, reinforced clothing and armor, as well as potential future aid from Uber and Leet? We were getting rather serious quite fast.

"Geez, I tell you I self-suck and that's your reaction? Ugh. Absolutely no balls." Kat groaned theatrically, and I made a show of looking down my pants as I do at any such comments, and she snorted in amusement. "God damn it, get out of here you dork. I've got some comedy to enjoy." She pushed me to my feet by casually moving me with just her legs, and I indeed left to do as I had planned now that my assistant had verified that the Stims were not only effective, but permanent.

The trip to my lab was unmolested by any interaction, most of the crew were asleep in their sleeping bags at this time of night, almost 11:30. I went to the mason jars containing the condensed Stim serum, which fittingly matched its description near-perfectly from the process it was obtained.

I filled dozens of syringes with the same amount I had injected Kat with and capped them, figuring it worked at her size and would probably be more potent for smaller people. Myself included. I injected myself in the left elbow vein, dabbed it with alcohol and used masking tape for pressure by wrapping it around the elbow with the alcohol-treated cotton ball on the site. I already felt the bruising and other injuries from the encounter with the Wards easing.

With myself Stimmed I moved over to the area the Jeepers were being kept. They were given all the mattresses and blankets to be kept comfortable. I worked until past midnight, injecting each of the injured with a Stim and making sure they were all laid out flat, telling them they would be fine soon.

I heard some screams, ignoring them since it was their bodies rapidly reknitting injuries. After all 18 of the Jeepers were injected, a couple were already trying to get back to sleep once their immediate injuries were healed. With that, I realized something awkward.

Where was I going to get the sludge for Stims if the crew doesn't need the Salve?


	16. Chapter 13

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Reaction 2.4**_

[Monday, November 1, 2010]

The solutions we came up with for maintaining a resource for Stims was unpleasant, and I am displeased with the course of action, even if I agree it is necessary. Even if we are treating everyone with flesh injuries using Salve to get more sludge, eliminating our resources by treating those untreated with Stims would eliminate them as a resource, and it would be a devastating blow.

Skidmark, upon hearing about this and seeing the logistical error treating everyone with Stims outright would be, he decided that only the upper levels of the Merchants will get Stims outright, and that all future Stims will be withheld unless someone breaks a bone or receives some other serious internal injury. Any surface injuries accrued by the lowbies will of course be treated with Salve, to get sludge to make more Stims of course.

Then there was the fact that the Merchants, apparently as of last night, were sort-of kidnapping uninitiated homeless to give them a meal, make an offer, and even if they turned down joining, clear up any addictions and surface injuries and send them on their way. Three such snatchings had been done as I slept the meager four hours I could get before school.

It wasn't exactly press-ganging, since they actually had a choice. Only one of the three homeless had refused though, the other two were officially grunts now, and being given access to Surge if they wanted, since Surge was so easy for me to make and distribute.

But that was last night, today at Winslow, life had been disrupted from the new norm. Shadow Stalker being in traction, sorry, Hess being absent, meant Barnes and Clements weren't willing to continue for now without their muscle. They would also likely be plotting their next move more carefully, since their minor tricks from before were being stopped so hard, and also Taylor wasn't just taking it anymore, and sending barbs back even.

For the future, I was going to have to see if I can't work around Hess', sorry, Shadow Stalker's, Breaker state, since she obviously used it to break into our respective lockers. According to PHO, it was speculated that Stalker's breaker state couldn't pass through electricity. PHO, the cluttered mess it was, sadly, was a better source of info on Parahumans than the Wiki, something I was going to occasionally see to editing in Mrs. Knott's class, or at least request the poster AllSeeingEye to do so, since they obviously had the brains to pick things apart. Regardless, I could easily make some bacteria that perform electrolysis, coat all the lockers in it, give her a nice zap, maybe cause her some hair loss.

As of now however, it was lunchtime, and again we swapped lunches. This time, I made chocolate muffins, made with Surge in place of cocoa powder. Thankfully my baking skills and my power actually seem to synergize, since bacteria is a key part of baking. Hopefully it would help her endurance should the Rats not stop Hess sending Taylor down the stairs again when she get's back from treatment. I had taken my weekly dose this morning for breakfast, and I had already noticed I wasn't as tired anymore just from one week of treatment.

"You'll be okay won't you?" Taylor asked me after swallowing a bite of her Surge muffin. Being the smart girl she is, she deduced that since I wasn't Asian, and I wasn't racist, that I wasn't in either the ABB or E88. That just left the Merchants if you didn't count any of the small groups counting only 10 or so people. With our declaration of war last night, she was clearly concerned for me since it was all over the news this morning and even had so-called 'experts' commenting on the potential collateral damage that having up to 200+ formerly addled gangers going up against one to two other gangs that were potentially larger and had 'better' capes.

Fact is, the Archer's Bridge Merchants only officially counted at 80 or so, with dozens of affiliates and even more hangers-on than that. So to say, if accumulated, the Merchants were actually bigger than both the ABB and E88 combined. But only if those outliers were willing to stick around once we cured them of their vices and offered full membership like we did with those homeless guys this morning.

"Don't worry Taylor, I'll be just fine." I said to my worried friend. "I'm just a junior member, believe it or not the gang doesn't like using kids outside of information gathering or other small things recently." I lied, a fairly easy thing to do when you had no obvious tells. The Rats for instance were indeed full members, but they were kept behind the scenes.

"They let junior members have access to tinker drugs?" Taylor asked skeptically, ironically eating some more of said tinker drug without her knowing. "Don't think I haven't noticed several guys and girls shooting up like weeds and getting all muscly and...developed." Taylor blushed at mentioning the side-effects, and I had to shrug intentionally.

"I can't claim to know how the capes think. Just that the moment the new one, Dealer, came around, the crew was suddenly off their old drugs and on what literally seems to be health supplements." Taylor blinked and looked askance at my words, so I nodded. "Yes. They took a shot that cured their drug addictions, then they immediately started taking a chocolate protein powder that makes people grow big, and grow fast."

"Wait, the Merchants are getting buff from drinking protein shakes?" Taylor asked in disbelief, and I nodded. "Talk about Tinker Bullshit."

"Don't I know it. I'm interested in the powder myself. If only to help with this." I shook my belly and Taylor looked completely understanding.

"Well...the girls are getting really...big, but the extra height is a bit off-putting." Taylor said, and I purposefully quirked my head inquisitively.

"Really? I find tall girls quite attractive." I admitted, because before I lost my libido I could never get the thought of a girl as tall, or taller than me out of my fantasies. Now, with Kat having fulfilled that, and me unable to appreciate it, I believe my powers have truly hamstrung me outside of their use. I may never reproduce, a shame.

I was caught off-guard at Taylor's face erupting in a flush and sputtering, looking away from me as she fidgeted in place. "R-r-really?" She asked quietly, and I nodded.

"Taylor, I already know you like buff, large males. There is nothing wrong with me sharing my preference for tall females." Taylor squeaked and hid her face behind her hands. "What is wrong? I do not miss your eyes lingering on a muscular male specimen, it was easy to deduce-."

"-God! You really are dense!" Taylor shouted as she uncovered her face, looking both angry and embarrassed. I think I belatedly realize what the context of my words could be taken as, since Taylor was quite tall for a girl her age, being taller than most grown women. I only needed to look down slightly to look in her eyes when standing, so I believe Kat's regular presence in my life has altered my perspective on what I consider 'tall'.

"Oh...I apologize Taylor. I will not say you are not appealing, but my intentions for our relationship are still entirely platonic." This seemed to make it worse, she just turned even redder somehow and moaned into her hands. "I will stop speaking. I seem to have my foot in my mouth."

"Please do." Taylor grumbled, and I believe we settled into what most would call an awkward silence, I simply continued to eat my lunch. Despite the cold, it was a sunny day today on the roof of Winslow, a nice respite from the frequent cloudy days and rains we'd been having most evenings and mornings the past couple weeks. "Hey Andrew?"

"Yes?" I responded, focusing back on my friend who still looked flushed a little.

"If you didn't lose your emotions...would you actually find me attractive?" Hm...I believe my mother told me about something like this involving females. A trap question? Well, it'd be worse to avoid it, so I might as well fall into it.

"Yes." I declared, making her curl a bit and visibly fight a grin. "But I do find you attractive even without emotions."

"W-what?" Taylor's embarrassment redoubled, looking at me in surprise.

"I may not have a libido, or the ability to properly emote, but I intellectually and objectively find you an impressive girl Taylor. You are intelligent, willful, and various other positive attributes. Do not belittle yourself, you will find someone for you one day." I said with certainty, and Taylor just beamed brightly with that wide smile of hers.

"That's...the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." Taylor replied, and I managed a shrug.

"Which is a travesty. You should be in Arcadia, not this dump with the rest of us Rats. At least there, you might have found your place, unlike here, where a false position as pariah has been assigned to you." The first bell rang, and I got up, crumpling my paper bag and Taylor moved to follow, and like a gentleman I held out a hand to help her up, which she took. "I wish I could help you past spending lunch with you. I'm not much of a friend."

"You're more of a friend than I've had in a long time Andrew." Taylor said with what I felt was a heartfelt declaration.

"And with my meager overtures to your wellbeing, that is indeed a sad thing." I insisted, and she huffed with a shake of her head, a smile on her face.

"The fact you think that just makes you an even better friend." Taylor further insisted, and I forced an eye-roll.

"There's that willfulness I mentioned." Taylor blushed slightly, but giggled and play-shoved my chest.

"Oh shut up. You find that attractive remember?" Taylor teased, and I nodded, getting her to laugh as we began down the stairs. I am going to make note of this progress in improving Taylor's self-esteem. I must also thank mom, Sherrel, and Kat for the advice. Females indeed do like their positive attributes being pointed out. I will continue to do so. So that maybe Taylor will be able to stand on her own without having to cave to the pressure of her peers.

[Pick Your Poison]

I had gone back to the fishery after school, but shortly after I arrived, I was asked something rather interesting. "Can we put Balcoat on our skin?" Asked one of the Jeepers, the one who has taken the nickname Tie-Dye because of his eye-catching choice of appearance even among the Jeepers.

"I would advise against it, especially if you're going to continue taking Surge. I would prefer you wait to do anything of that sort until after you've stopped growing." Because if they use Balcoat and are still growing, it will either stunt them horrifically, or their flesh will literally tear as the force eventually overtakes the strength of the Balcoat, which while glacial, and agonizing, would likely eventually happen.

"So OD on Surge until I stop growing like Kat did, take Addictol to snap out of the haze, and then Balcoat, got it." Tie assumed, so I held up a hand to gesture him to stay before I went back to finish making another jar of Stim from sludge collected from newly-inducted lowbies. It was a simple if grisly process, involving wrapping the sludge in a cloth, cheesecloth preferably, and squeezing the sludge into a watery liquid. Rather, it was like squeezing whey from cheese curds.

"If you are so determined, very well. But it will bar you from the next stage of enhancements I have planned." I warned, and hoped he wouldn't ask what the next stage was, rather in vain I know, but I had to at least try to dissuade him.

"What's the next step?" Of course. I haven't even broached the topic with Kat yet because knowing her, she'd jump on it with fervor, and until the Nutrigel; my current project, is finished, I am not comfortable trying it out as of yet.

"Mutation. Specifically, I am going to attempt to bring out the latent animal DNA in the human genome. Creating the bacteria that generates the correct forms of RNA to-." Tie-Dye clearly had no patience for any Tinker-Talk, so he waved for me to get on with it. "-Right. Regardless, it involves animal-based mutations, and I haven't even tested it yet since the method will be very intense and dangerous, so I am first developing a way for the body to get the energy it needs to fuel the process without running an IV drip."

"What, you mean turn us into furries?" Tie asked in bemusement, and I quirked my head intentionally, because I had no clue what a 'furry' is. "Shit, right, kid. Furries are people who find animals, or rather people with animal traits hot."

"Oh. Well, your sexual preference should hopefully remain unchanged." By that definition, becoming visibly part animal wasn't going to turn that person into a 'furry' or whatever. They'd still be people, so I don't see anything wrong with it if someone finds that person appealing after mutation.

"What? Uh...oh. I get it. Well...would you have a way to tell what animal someone would turn into?" Tie asked, and I...didn't know. My power just told me it was definitely possible, not if I could identify what type of animal, or multiple types even, they would turn partially into.

"No...at least, not with this abysmal setup." I gestured to my still sub-par garage lab. I had to replace the propane for my camping burner, and I've cycled through the numerous jars and glasses several times already, having some lowbies wash them out with a hose and rags. I still didn't even have a fumigation station for working with more volatile chemicals. I'd just been closing the door to my lab and hanging a 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the knob with my mask on as always.

I've only had a couple minor detonations, nothing more noteworthy than a firecracker when some volatile fumes met in the air. "So you need a better lab?" Tie brought me back with his rhetorical question, to which I nodded. "Got it, I'll be back in a bit."

Back for what?

[Pick Your Poison]

I am at a loss for words. "So would this help?" Tie-Dye asked me casually, as if he hadn't just done something amazing and stupid.

"You stole a fucking Medhall shipment?!" Squealer screeched irately at Tie-Dye, who was ignoring her curse-filled ranting at him having brazenly, in broad daylight, stolen a Medhall shipping fleet van filled to the brim with equipment that had been bound for Brockton University. "How the absolute fuck did you manage to even get it here without exposing us you dipshit?!"

Squealer demanded of the currently shorter-than-her Jeeper, who still ignored her despite the woman having surpassed his 6-foot height by a couple inches from her Surge regimen. "I am rather interested in how you accomplished this feat as well." I said, still staring into the back of the stolen van, my power about making me twitch with anticipation of putting all this amazing lab equipment to use.

"I had a pal drive me up to the Medhall shipment depot as close as possible. Waited until they finished loading it. Jumped out. Jacked it. Hightailed it here with the other van running escort and smashing any cops who got too close. Shot Armsmaster's bike with the flaming buckshot when he showed up, he had to stop since the stuff doesn't snuff out easy. Same with Militia. Kept going before the PD bird could catch up or Velocity did. Got here." Tie-Dye summarized simply, as if he hadn't just stolen from the richest medical firm in the city, evaded both BBPD and the Protectorate, and got here before he was made.

An astounding feat, the Medhall depot was halfway across the city. The BBPD, PRT, and Protectorate must be chomping at the bit to have lost a single criminal making such a huge gambit. Especially in broad daylight.

"You're fucking lucky you ass! If this thing's bugged, which it obviously is, even with that cloaking field over there, they'll find us if they analyze it fast enough! Unload it boys!" Squealer ordered the gobsmacked crowd that had gathered when Squealer started squealing, and they hurriedly began rushing the materials out of the back. "Okay you jackass! Once the stuff's unloaded, YOU are going to drive this thing straight into the water of the bay! Then you get to try and get back here without bringing the heroes down on us, while STILL wearing that fucking eyesore!"

"Kay." Tie shrugged, as if he hadn't just been given up, but I agree with Squealer, he had taken a very stupid risk for this. He should've had several guys helping him, not just one. "Should I leave my guns or what?"

"No. Fuck. Being modded by Dealer doesn't make you a cape you dumbass, don't do this shit again or I will personally drop you off at the BBPD!" Squealer shouted as she pointed at Tie-Dye's gas mask, and then stomped away, screaming for Skidmark, something about stress relief.

I'm starting to understand Skidmark's name for her. "Regardless, I hope to see you back Tie-Dye. You've helped me, and the crew a lot with this." I praised the ballsy man, who just shrugged.

"It's not a big deal. I don't get this whole cops-n-robbers thing capes have going. If you need something, get it. You don't need to make a big show of it." Hypocritically claimed the now big-time crew member. This heist, done practically alone, would make him legend in the crew. "That said, looks like they've got most of the loot out, I'll get ready to dump the ride in the bay further north at the ship graveyard." I followed him to the van's cab, and he got in, shot the radio dashboard with a pistol he borrowed from another mook, and then started the engine, bolting out of the motor pool with the back doors still open, driving away like a bat out of hell.

That guy was definitely going to be a big deal around here now, cape or not. I looked at the boxes, and opened one up, taking out a high-tech microscope that would be crucial to more in-depth study and analysis of my work. There was more of the same in that box, but opening another revealed it was full of beakers, so that meant it was at least a varied shipment.

"Okay folks, start moving this to my lab, I've got-." Suddenly big muscular arms hefted me up from behind, squeezing the back of my head to watermelon-sized mammaries.

"You're gonna turn me into a beast?! That's so fucking metal!" Kat squeed as she continued to crush my ribs. "What're we waiting for?! I wanna get out there and tear faces off! I've been cooped up in this fishy place for months!"

And this is why I did not even mention it to her yet….


	17. Chapter 14

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Reaction 2.5**_

[Wednesday, November 3, 2010]

With the Jeepers healed up, my lab better than ever, and the gang rapidly growing by actual proper recruitment, things the past few days have been looking up. Sure, we were snatching up homeless, but we were helping patch them up and get some food in them before making the pitch, even sending them off with no hard feelings if they refused, so the past couple days have been busy.

We did however encounter an issue with the crew's increased appetites and the increased number of mouths to feed. Thankfully I already baked for a hobby, so I just told the crew to get some ovens and I'd make an advanced yeast to bake large quantities of baked goods. Trainwreck did one better, and made a huge electric oven. Sure, it needed to be hand cranked to maintain temperature, but it worked for our purposes and with my special yeast, baked goods were popping out of it at half the time it would normally. I even introduced my recipes so some of the crew could bake too, which included the recipe for Surge muffins.

Speaking of which however, at school, I think I underestimated the effects Surge had when baked, figuring it would be weaker. Wrong. Taylor had grown an inch as if she'd taken a whole dose Monday. She didn't seem to notice, but since I was invested I did, so I decided to instead eat the Surge muffin I planned to give her that day instead to her disappointment. I shot up a couple inches ahead of schedule overnight since the muffin added to my usual dose Monday, but Taylor simply gawked at me today and asked if I was okay.

Honestly I've never been better. The Surge was working on me faster than I anticipated, it was metabolizing my fat to fuel my growth and muscle development. Already my arms had lost their flab, what little on my face there was is gone, and I have pecs. I honestly have pecs now. I think that's what got Taylor's attention really, because during lunch she occasionally couldn't avoid her eyes drifting down.

I even managed to joke and remind her where my eyes were. Her blush was what I would have once labeled as adorable. That aside, I'm going to avoid giving her any more Surge muffins for now. That one she ate Monday was still at work, and while it was more gradual, it would still be apparent. I just hope she believes it's another growth spurt. At least I do not have to be as invested in her physical health for the time being.

School and the rest of the gang aside, ever since Tie-Dye blabbed about my next big project, Kat has been insufferable. She kept needling me to test the Primal on her, but I refuse to blindly throw Kat to the metaphorical wolves without safeties. Stim would help ensure she'd live through the process, but to go through it without the body having the energy it needs would be agonizing and cruel. I would not return Kat to being an emaciated ghoul if she didn't die of malnutrition first.

It was with this warning that she finally eased up, but was constantly egging me to finish the Nutrigel so we could test the Primal. "C'mon~! How hard can it be?" Like right now. I was hunched over my worktable, which had evolved substantially thanks to Tie-Dye, looking through a microscope at the prototype petri dish sample to examine if it was converting the raw material, in this case; Slimfast chocolate drink, into the simplest of forms the body can near-instantly use for energy and nutrition. "Is it looking good?"

"Kat. For the last time. Get off me." I demanded, because honestly, having her literally hovering over me, pressing against my back and shoulders, was tiring. Literally, she was putting her weight on me and everything. The shoulder rub wasn't helping either.

"But if I don't pester you, how can I guarantee you'll finish any faster?" Kat playfully reasoned, and I grabbed her right hand, and broke her pinky casually with my newfound strength, which got her to hiss and jolt away. "Fuck. Fine, be a spoilsport." Kat pouted, nonplussed at the injury since with testing we'd found that she healed even major wounds within minutes. However, she needed to drink normal protein shakes or a large meal. Or, as the lewd sucking noises I heard shortly behind me reminded me; breast milk, to get energy back from the metabolic drain said heavy healing put on her. Yet another reason I want to finish the Nutrigel. The body can't work without fuel.

"This is advanced tinker-type microbiology here. It works at it's own pace. Normal microbiology can take several years of intense focused study and experimentation to even…." I trailed off as I watched the bacterium ingest the drop of meal shake and parse it down to the simplest of forms after it had acclimated to the various vitamins and minerals it was composed of. However, the bacteria could not parse down the preservatives, and instead seemed to assimilate it like an amoeba, but couldn't digest it. "Hm, that's not safe, but it did produce gel."

"So is it ready?!" Kat gushed as she was thankfully covered back up, her finger fully healed. I picked up the petri dish, looking at the now clear drop of former meal shake. I shook it, and instead of sliding around like liquid, it jiggled and rolled like the gel it was supposed to be.

"More or less. I doubt it would be safe to ingest the Nutrigel's source bacteria however. It could very well eat someone from the inside out, and convert them to gel while growing in size as the colony encapsulates all indigestible material. It will be difficult to come up with a safe method of harvesting the gel without unleashing a lethal flesh-eating bacteria. I'm afraid that while the byproduct is what we need, the bacteria itself is far too dangerous. I'm going to have to start over from scratch, and destroy all current samples." I growled, irritation being fed to me by my power at this failure. While it would work, the risk and horror this would be if it was unleashed was counterproductive to my goals.

"Holy shit. Yeah, uh...I'll just be over here, with the disinfectant." Kat nervously edged away from the sealed petri dish in my hand, grabbing the spray bottle of said bacteria-killing fluid and aiming it at the dish.

"Good idea. We're going to have to scour the whole lab. Make sure not a trace of this remains." I prepared to open the dish, Kat ready, and the instant I opened it, she rapidly sprayed the whole inside of the dish quite liberally. Unnecessary, but appreciated. The culture that was there would certainly be gone now.

I moved the soiled dish to the portable camping sink someone had decided to run a garden hose and drain hose to for my lab, the drain hose running to a drain channel someone had literally gouged in the floor that led to a drain in the motor pool.

We then moved on to destroying the other Nutrigel cultures I was testing since this would have to be taken back to concept for now, and then disinfected the whole lab from ceiling to floor. It was this cleaning frenzy that Sherrel happened upon. "The hell? Is it Spring somehow?" Sherrel, having decided to try out overdosing like Kat had on Surge, was now just slightly shorter than Kat at 6 foot 9 inches. She also had just slightly slimmer hips and somewhat smaller mammaries than Kat too. From this, I believe that Surge's final results are heavily dependant on the user's overall genetic potential considering the drastic end results I've observed among the whole crew. She still was barely dressed, but at least this time like Kat, she had size to blame.

We still need to apologize to Parian for having parked the stage in front of her Dollhouse so we could order clothes in the crew's enlarging sizes. Thankfully most of them had clothes too big to begin with, so that wasn't as much an issue for now, and we could make due with oversized clothes from the thrift shops anyhow, but seeing as Parian is neutral, no need to burn potential bridges.

"No. Dealer ended up making a possible goo apocalypse plague bacteria thing. We're making sure none of it survives." Kat said from her place near a wall, scrubbing the filthy corner of the ceiling and wall with a rag and disinfectant. At this, Sherrel hopped out of the room, looking down at herself in concern.

"Don't panic. If it was loose, we would be piles of gel and you'd be dissolving right now." My grim factual response to her reaction, while graphic and unsettling to her if my assessment of her expression was correct, still put her at ease if her sigh and entering my lab was any indication.

"Right, well. I sorta forgot why I came in here now…." Sherrel hummed, scratching her head as she watched us continue to clean. "Oh yeah, right. Well, with the increased activity, I'm running low on fuel, and we've burned through most of the biodiesel your fuel farm has been giving us." Squealer said as she didn't bother to mention that for the growing average size of the crew, she'd been working overtime to improve the seating and other aspects to suit us, which also meant she'd been having to rotate drivers, etc, all busywork that cost more fuel with the trips to the scrapyard for more materials.

"Not a problem. I'll make a few more source canisters once we're certain I haven't started a plague." I informed her, and she nodded before turning to leave, but paused and cleared her throat.

"Actually, ah...well. You know how Surge ramps up the sex drive?" I nodded at Squealer's rhetoric as I put the last of the Nutrigel test dishes through a disinfectant bath in the sink. "We've got some pregnancies from some of the crew who couldn't resist and forgot to use protection." Squealer informed me, and Kat cooed in a teasing tone as I shrugged.

"I had figured such a thing would occur. But I doubt I can do more than provide the mothers-to-be with Stims so they're guaranteed good health. The reproductive system is quite adept at resisting infection when it can, and I highly doubt it would be feasible to try and branch out into gynecology." Nope. Power just shrugged. Or, at least, the sensation I perceive as shrugging when it is stumped, and thus, I am stumped. Why is my power so expressive while not letting me be as such?

"What I'm trying to get at is...they're already looking a few months along." Squealer stressed, and I had to pause. My power just lurched ideas into my head. Surge was meant to force the body to Grow to their genetic potential. Unborn babies in the womb were Growing to the point of birth. Surge accelerated the speed of pregnancies by forcing the fetus, connected to said human body of the mother, to grow like bread because the mother's body is basically the oven, and the Surge is the yeast.

"Get them off Surge immediately." I felt a spike of pain in my head, my Power clearly didn't like me not jumping at a chance to see the outcome. I screamed and grabbed my head, Kat and Sherrel quickly held me upright from my legs getting weak and wobbly as a blinding agony swept through my head.

"Fuck, tinker backlash. Shit, get a chair!" Squealer demanded of Kat, my ears throbbing along with my sight at the rushing beat of my heart as I was held up by strong hands and then lowered onto a stool. "Breathe. Slowly. Try not to think." Kinda hard Sher. "I know what it's like, you have the chance to see something you make provide interesting results, and you refuse to for some reason. I guess tinker powers don't like to miss out on new knowledge."

"Holy fuck. You got a bomb in your head like that too?" Kat asked Sherrel in shock, and I leaned against the sink, feeling like I'm going to-.

I ripped off my hood and mask in one motion, pulled the spandex seam at my chin up and vomited into the sink as the waves of burning pain seemed to be lighting my nerves all across my head and neck up like a christmas tree. "Yes. Fuck. It's like fucking sudden withdrawal. Get some Addictol, normal meds don't work but maybe tinker stuff will. I hear it's like a Thinker Headache. Some of the eggheads on PHO theorize that tinkers are usually like a blend of Thinker, and Shaker powers."

For some reason, hearing about testing Addictol on my current state made my power thrum with interest, me by extension aside from not wanting this pain. I did not resist as Kat and Sherrel pulled my coat and hoodie off, and then peeled my spandex bodysuit down to my elbows, exposing my new pecs and muscular arms in spite of my fat stomach still remaining. I grunted at feeling a needle being pressed into my left elbow vein. I wearily helped them work my suit back on and then my hoodie, coat, and mask. "Thank you…."

"Thank me if it works. Kat, get him to a bed, keep an eye on him. I'll go tell the pregnant girls to stop taking-." I screamed as a fresh wave of agony pulsed in me. "Fuck, damn that's persistent! Okay, I'll just tell them it's the Surge, and that they can make up their own minds." I grunted, clearly even that wasn't a perfect solution, but then again it was their right, not mine.

"C'mon Deal." Kat gently urged, holding me up with an arm under my right armpit and squeezing me to her side as she guided me out of my lab. "Shit, you're a handsome guy. Can't believe I got to see your face before I learned your name. I always did like red hair." Kat tried for levity, which I just groaned in response at. "Okay, I'll get you to the barracks, alright?" Kat cooed softly at me as we indeed moved towards the recently renovated sleeping area. Which literally was just a former office loft that had a ton of huge bunkbeds set up by Trainwreck and other metal-savvy crew members.

I stopped focusing after the destination was set. I was drained, tired, pained. I just wanted to close my eyes….

[Pick Your Poison]

"C'mon Deal. You've gotta get up." I heard Kat quietly urge as I was jostled. I groaned as I blearily opened my eyes, smelling the stench of the old mattresses and unwashed bodies. I must be in only my spandex on my head if my mask isn't on. "I don't want you out of bed either Deal, but something's come up."

"Wha?" I blearily managed to croak, moaning as I forced myself to move to the edge of the dirty bed and carefully sit up without hitting my head on the top bunk with some help from Kat. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong...really. But it's...serious, and weird." So, 'seriously weird' huh? That's Kat Speak for 'no idea what's happening, get a cape'.

"Mmph...sounds bad to me. Can't Squealer deal with it?" Seriously, because even though Skidmark has gotten his act together, Sherrel is still better at organization even as busy as she was with her projects. So odd, that even sober, Skidmark gives his lady the reins. Probably some sort of Figurehead tactic considering how slick those two are.

"She tried, but it's...okay. Put bluntly, we have a Visitor." I immediately tried to bolt to my feet at the code phrase the Merchants used to either indicate a Mole, Stranger, or captive Cape. However, Kat instead stopped me, and slowly eased me up to my feet. "A Visitor who is welcome." Captive then.

"Who?" I demanded as I looked around, and thankfully accepted my mask when Kat produced it without prompting.

"Brandish." Kat said with a clear tone of bemusement, and I had to pause in consideration. Brandish wasn't just any cape, or hero for that matter, she was a veteran who managed to remain Independent throughout her cape career. How did she end up in the Fishery? "She managed to get in by pretending to be homeless in one of the neighborhoods we've been pulling recruits from. Smeared herself in grease and dirt, and even dragged her hair through mud. Not to mention the ratty clothes she was in."

"I see, but why, and why am I needed? Brandish is leagues above any of us." No amount of muscle would matter when met with hardlight constructs, and considering she could turn into pure light and be technically invulnerable when seriously threatened, none of us could possibly hold her here. So she had to be here for some reason besides trying to spit in the face of the Unwritten Rules and arrest us like she did to The Marquis. Because this was the Home of the Merchants in more than it just being our HQ, many of the crew including Mush, Skidmark and Squealer slept in this very room as well as other barracks Train and others had established, well aside from Squealer who had her own room.

"She won't say unless it's to you." Kat growled, clearly not liking the idea of me even being in the same room as the hero. "She promises not to cause us trouble if we have you hear her out for something, so there's at least that. Squealer also got her to promise to let us escort her out the same way she got in after everything's done, but all the same I wish you weren't the one she's demanding to see."

"It might be because I made her daughter, and by extension New Wave look bad a few weeks ago. We'd better stop by my lab before we go see her. She's being held in the Vault right?" The Vault was just a romanticized nickname for the Fishery's broken freezer. It didn't work for keeping things cold anymore, but it was a very solid steel box with insulation and whatnot, so we used it as both storage for our cash and other valuables, but one section was fitted with a barred cell made from rebar to hold any captives for any reason. Not that it would stop a hardlight sword from letting Brandish just waltz out.

"Yeah. C'mon then, let's get you outfitted before we go see the blond lawyer." Kat hissed at the word lawyer, she probably had reason to detest them then. Kat helped me keep steady, the pulsing ache of my...what did Sherrel call it? Tinker Backlash? Well, whatever it is, I'm thankful that the pain has subsided a good bit to a dull throb. But time and rest or the Addictol, I am unaware which led to me being better right now, which honestly was bothersome.

I am not looking forward to next time, because I strongly believe there may be a next time, because I will probably try to test to see if the Addictol actually helped. That and a sociopath or not, there are lines my morals will not willingly cross. I understand that killing is wrong, but is sometimes necessary, but never is it necessary to endanger a child willingly. Especially if said child cannot even make their own decisions. However, I am not beyond hurting someone say, Vista, if she is between me and a goal, or freedom.

Which is why the thought that Surge could cause horrid deformities in unborn fetuses was a big line crosser for me. I may not have proper feelings anymore, but whatever deity that exists as my witness, I will not become a monster by my own will.

It was thoughts such as these that ran through my mind as Kat led me to my lab, and I saw who must have been one of the pregnant women, looking indeed as if she was at least four months along a standard pregnancy. I hope that the fetus is okay, but considering the aplomb she was consuming what was obviously yet another Surge shake told me she was eager to see the result. If that child is born deformed or dead, I will forever burn this into my memory that I am dangerous, and my concoctions even more so.

Once we were back in my lab, I grabbed a brown deodorant can of that Sick Spray I finished concocting on Halloween, even though I have yet to test it properly. If Brandish became belligerent, it was the only thing in my arsenal I felt might be able to subdue her or force her to flee.

With this, I shrugged Kat's doting off so Brandish would hopefully not sense any weakness, and walked through the busy fishery to the vault. Mush was standing guard, covered entirely with Balcoat treated crushed cans, his favored trash these days. I nodded to him, and entered the former freezer to see Brandish to the far right side in the cell, as filthy and pathetic looking as any homeless person in this city, no wonder the recruiters were suckered.

"Brandish." I stated as I stood at the bars, and the dirty woman leered at me with an intensity in her eyes that would've made any lesser man, or rather, someone with emotions, cower or flinch. I however, was thankfully immune. "I am told that you have business with me?"


	18. Interlude 2b

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Paladin**_

[Wednesday, November 3, 2010]

"Brandish." Came the dry and emotionless voice, one that made her instinctively tense up. It was the voice of a monster, someone who would sooner kill someone if it was convenient rather than go the right way around a problem. Carol Dallon snapped her head up at the owner of the voice with her best glare through the rebar cell to see the villain who had duped her daughter a few weeks ago. "I am told that you have business with me?"

"You're Dealer?" Brandish demanded with scepticism purposefully put in her tone, something being a lawyer gave her good practice with. "I expected someone thinner." Carol said with certainty, as if he had broken some sort of rule by being overweight.

"It's a work in progress." Came his dry reply as he patted his belly, making his far too tall and obscenely proportioned female companion chortle. "My weight aside, open the door." Dealer ordered of his companion, who despite visibly looking hesitant, supplied the key to the makeshift door's lock, causing Brandish to blink in surprise. "I'll not speak to you through iron bars. We're moving to a sitting room."

"I'm an intruder, wouldn't keeping me in here be normal?" The heroine asked, bemused as she stood and the taller woman gruffly opened the door and let her out to stand next to the tall villain.

"Yes. But there's no point in keeping you somewhere you could easily break out of anyway. However, you will have to hand over any phones on your person." Dealer held out his right hand, and Brandish growled.

"You're not getting anything from me."

"Then we're done here. Kay, lead her out." Dealer said with finality, and before his muscular companion could react, Brandish created a sword of light in her left hand and pointed it at his masked face, to which he didn't even flinch, hadn't even moved, still holding his right hand out for her phone. "That is unwise."

"Really? The way I see it I'm holding all the power here. None of you can keep me contained-." Brandish froze, realizing belatedly that in his own left hand was a spray can angled up at her, something she missed thanks to his baggy attire and how the can was deliberately painted to match his brown gloves.

"Unless you wish to suffer sudden onset violent projectile vomiting and explosive diarrhea, you will disarm and give me any devices that send or receive signals." Dealer coldly ordered, and Brandish seethed. She absolutely hated giving villains even a single inch, and she was already bending backwards for them just by conceding to sit in that crude cell.

"Fine." The blonde bit out, letting her construct vanish in a flash and digging in her cleavage for her phone, which once handed over the villain promptly just gently put into the cell. "What are you doing?"

"Faraday Cage." Dealer tapped the bars, and it was only just then that Brandish realized why the rebar went around the walls and along the ceiling. Crude, clever, and the simplest form possible, but it would definitely make her phone useless while inside the cell, if the defunct freezer hadn't already. "Come along now."

Brandish ground her teeth and sucked up her pride some more, following the overweight man through the Archer's Bridge Merchants Headquarters. This was a place that she, by the godforsaken 'Unwritten Rules' couldn't reveal even if she knew where it was since she used her ruse to be blinded and kidnapped to get here. Because villains would not take kindly to their 'Home' being invaded or exposed, and other villains would also immediately target her own family as a whole for retribution.

But that was not why she was here.

"Have a seat." Dealer said as they entered what must've been a secretary's office at some point in the defunct building's history. Despite the threat of the Unwritten Rules, Brandish looked around for any clue as to the identity of the building. It was clearly massive, much more so than a mere warehouse, but there were dozens of buildings in the Docks alone that matched such a description. "Would you like a drink?"

"No." Brandish ground out as she took a seat in a rusty folding chair in front of the rotting desk, while Dealer sat in the duct-taped office chair behind said moldy monstrosity that made her nose crinkle in disgust. "Where are any of the other capes? I didn't even see Mush on the way out of the cell." Which was odd, she heard him shamble off the moment Dealer had entered her cell.

"No idea." Brandish blinked in surprise again, she wasn't expecting such a forthright response from the tinker. "They probably figure I've got this handled. We're really busy of late, and since I'm the one you wanted to see, I'm afraid you'll just have to settle with myself and my lovely assistant Kay."

"Try anything again and I'll snap your neck." Kay growled viciously, clearly the woman was a Brute, but Brandish didn't hear about any new capes who joined the city's most pathetic gang besides who she came to see.

"Now, now Kay. No need to be hostile. She's clearly here for a purpose, why else would she come to this den of scum and villainy?" The bland-toned sociopath quoted, making Brandish huff in admission to his rather apt description of the Merchant HQ. "As such, I believe it only right to get down to business."

"Of course. I'm here to see if what I and my resources have gathered is true." Brandish alluded, and rather than let her try to control the conversation by replying, Dealer gestured for her to continue, making her fume at him not even letting her get any ammunition out of him. "From what we've gathered, the Merchants are genuinely no longer addicts, is this correct?"

"Kay, how's the heroin addiction?" Dealer asked of his companion instead of directly responding, and Brandish had to examine the muscular amazonian woman who smirked viciously and flexed her biceps.

"Not a single drop since I was cured last month." Kay declared proudly, but hummed. "But I am still addicted to something. It's called being buff!" Kay declared, and Brandish had to gawk for a split second at realizing that this 'Kay' wasn't a cape at all, just an incredibly muscular normal woman. For whatever description of normal the dark-skinned titan fitted into.

"As you can see from my assistant, not only are we all free of our addictions, at least in regards to harmful chemicals and drugs, we are also getting healthy, and strong. So yes, that little announcement on Halloween was no lie. If that is all, are you ready to be led out?" What? No! She couldn't just let him dismiss her with a tidbit like that!

"No! I am here to...I…." Carol Dallon, the Mother, swallowed her pride, and took a cleansing breath. "I...I need your help."

"Really? What could such an upstanding Hero need from a Villain such as I?" Dealer asked intently, despite his flat tone, he still sounded intrigued at the least.

"I need your cure for addiction." Brandish stated seriously, because without knowing what it was, where it was kept, or even how to use it, she couldn't just blindly try to assault the villain and attempt to search for his miracle cure.

"Unexpected...you don't seem to be experiencing any visible side-effects from any drug abuse despite your attempts to appear so. You also are far too in control of yourself, well, aside from your irrational anger streak a mile wide. Who is it for, and why?" Brandish grit her teeth, she did not want to tell him.

"I won't-."

"Then we're done. Kay, go fetch her phone." Dealer interrupted her, and before she could even do anything he had his spray can on the desk, ready for the moment she tried something. Kay moved to leave the room, she hated how helpless these monsters made her feel right now. It was almost like when she-.

"Okay! Fine! I need it for my daughter!" Carol Dallon admitted frantically, getting Kay to stay in the room, and the desperate mother to take several calming breaths. "I need it for her…."

"So that's why some of the new recruits have seen Amelia Dallon at the rehabilitation center." Carol tensed at Dealer so easily figuring out which of her daughters it was for. "We had assumed she was just there to help patients with the physical effects of their addictions, which she did-" Damn it Amy! She wasn't supposed to be- "-but she's actually there for her own struggles."

"Yes." Carol admitted, feeling so fragile and helpless. She hated this feeling, it was similar to her Trigger. But for her daughters, she would go through with even a repeat of her trigger if it meant helping either of them.

"What is her addiction?" Dealer asked next, and Carol didn't want to divulge more, but instead of threatening her again, he instead moved the spray can to the edge of the desk, easily in reach of her, and removed his arm, reclining in his chair. "I will not release any of my product without either good reason, or compensation. We're Merchants Mrs. Dallon, and I am the closest thing we have to a doctor." Dealer lifted his veil and lowered his hood, revealing the eerily floating plague doctor mask, the sight of seeing the mask just...there, without a head or neck was extremely unsettling.

"We can't help, if we don't know the cause." Kay said empathetically, and Carol had to blink in surprise once more. These were Villains? She spoke with Heroes not even half as empathic.

"She...she's addicted to my other daughter; Victoria." Carol admitted, and Dealer tilted his floating mask to the side, while Kay looked a little bemused.

"Uh...well, girls can have fun can't they?" The dense musclehead asked, and Carol just realized what her statement sounded like, making her groan.

"N-no...well, yes, that too, but it's part of the whole problem. Victoria has an Aura, one that makes those within range feel either admiration and awe, or fear and despair. Since she was brought into our lives, Victoria has loved Amelia with every fiber of her being as a sister. So Amy was exposed to Vicky's Aura near-constantly, inspiring constant admiration in her, which developed into infatuation, and so on." Carol informed with visible pain in her expression, at having let it carry on without care, not realizing what they were doing to Amy.

"I see...well, we can help, but if Victoria cannot withhold her Aura, any help we give would merely be temporary." Dealer informed, and Carol firmed her resolve.

"Vicky will be taught to control herself, and her powers more." Brandish said with her firmest tone she reserved for either fighting a villain or prosecuting a criminal in court. Or seriously scolding her daughters, whichever was more relevant in this case.

"Very well...hm...may I make an offer?" Carol was interested, so nodded. "What if I provide you with not only the cure for Panacea, but also for Flashbang?"

"What do you mean?" Carol asked on confusion, because all her husband had was…. "You can help his depression?" Carol asked in shock, and Dealer shrugged.

"If it's based in the chemical synapses and other such things in the brain, the same cure for addiction should work on him as well. If not cure it, it would certainly help him cope. That aside, the reports also said that Panacea was looking quite pale and thin." Carol winced at Dealer's continued knowledge, and sighed.

"It's why I'm here. She...she's getting worse. She isn't eating, she isn't sleeping, she's constantly in pain. A mother can only bear hearing her daughter beg her to kill her so many times before…." Carol stopped, she could not cry here, not with prying eyes, especially those of villains.

"We have something for that too!" Kay declared, snapping Carol's attention back towards the buff woman, who hefted her excessive bosom. Well, excessive in relativity, on the tall and muscular woman they didn't seem out of place. "If you don't mind side-effects like this, then Surge would be a big help for her health."

"Large breasts are a side-effect?" Carol asked in confusion towards Dealer, who nodded.

"I'm afraid the method for how Surge works has to use the body's own natural developmental processes. Which, unfortunately, includes a spike in libido and extra growth in a female's mammaries, and a male's genitalia, for example." Dealer gestured to Kay, who grinned winningly, and Carol flushed madly at thinking of giving Mark some….

"W-well...I can't speak for her on that. I'm going so far just to try and get your addiction cure...that said...what do you want in exchange?" This was what she was most concerned about next to getting her daughter help. If they asked her and New Wave to look the other way to their activities, she couldn't do it. She would have to watch her Amelia suffer and wither away….

"We don't care for money, not right now. But...from what Panacea's displayed of her power, would a perpetually bleeding or seeping chunk of flesh be possible?" Dealer's question was so left-field, that Carol had to pause, cringe at the disgusting image, but then nod curiously. "Then, on faith, we'll help you. Try to convince Panacea to supply us a specimen as described."

"Because the process to make the stuff that lets us do this." Carol watched in shock as Kay broke her left pinky and leave it at an angle, only to gape as it slowly moved back into place, and then a minute and some change of seconds later, she flexed it. "Needs previous surface injuries to be treated with another treatment first."

"Which is problematic, as we're not willing to literally flay people to make more." Dealer added on. "We're genuine, we want to help the city, but so long as the ABB and E88 exist we can't just go straight for community service or something. In fact, ridding the city of those two could easily be considered community service, even with the chaos and fallout we'll have to endure. Regardless, just ask Panacea to consider it. If I can make more of the healing stimulant we can help more people."

"I...will ask her. I just hope she'll even accept your help in the first place. Even if she doesn't, I at least wanted to try." Carol agreed, and with this, Dealer and Kay led her out of the small office, and into the motor pool. Brandish eyed the big bandanna-masked Squealer with a touch of envy and wariness, she hadn't ever seen Squealer before, so she had assumed the woman was naturally this way, but knowing of Surge and that Kay had become similar from it, she could now assume the Merchants were able to field a whole gang of low-level brutes. Especially from the way Squealer casually lifted a van off one side of wheels to look at the undercarriage.

"Welcome to my lab. Pardon any mess, we spent a good portion of the afternoon cleaning up." Dealer stated, causing Brandish to tense. She had just casually entered a Tinker's Lab, a place where a tinker is strongest without any awareness or warning on her part. "Be at ease. I'm just here to provide what you've asked for, and from there I'll have my lieutenants take you home."

Brandish did calm down a little at the surprisingly accommodating villain's words, but she remained ready for any surprises. Marquis was a man of his word too, but that did not make him any less of a monster, she reminded herself. She watched Kay reach up to the top of a ceiling-high storage shelf and pull down what was obviously a container of whey protein, really? Then Dealer used a couple syringes to collect a small amount of amber liquid from a vial, and capped the needles properly. "The jar's Surge, the needles are Addictol, I'll go get your phone and fetch the boys."

With that, Kay left Carol alone with the villain who, while smaller than the colossal woman, still towered over her by nearly a foot. She wasn't short by any standard, but she wasn't much more than 5' 8". It was easy to forget with his baggy and billowing clothes and his obviously habitual slouching, that Dealer was still much taller than wide, and she felt uncomfortable with his silent staring, even if he did put his hood back up. Was he some sort of Case 53? Or was the floating mask a tinker trick?

"You are a good person, despite your faults." Carol was again surprised at the left-field statement. This villain was full of surprises. "The Surge is simple, just one scoop with the contained scoop is a daily dose. Overdosing isn't dangerous, but it will result in intense hunger due to needing more nutrition quickly. As for the Addictol, just inject it wherever is safe, preferably in the left arm, it takes 30 minutes to take full effect, and after an hour is metabolized by the body. The patient will not revert to a previous state because the synapses in the brain will be reminded how to function properly, but later addiction is possible, so be responsible."

"Understood." Brandish stated, committing his input to memory. Before she could ask anything, Kay returned with her phone, and two healthy men wearing ski masks along with their baggy attire similar to Dealer's, who gestured for her to follow, but before she went with them, she turned back to the villain, and swallowed her pride more because she needed to say it. "Thank you."

"Thank me if everything turns out well for your daughter and husband." Dealer replied, and waved her off to get back to his work she assumed.

Shortly, she was escorted to a vehicle, had a sack put over her head, and had another awkwardly silent ride in a Merchant van.

After some time, she was relieved to have the sack removed, and was gestured out the door, right in front of her house with her 'groceries' in hand, and whipped around in time to see one of the men sliding the door shut, leaving absolutely nothing there. It was disturbing, the Merchants could have easily just rolled up on anyone, pointed guns out the windows and sprayed entire groups down without reprisal, and then drove off. She'd never heard of the gang doing that. She hoped Dealer and Kay were genuine, the city needed good samaritans, even if they were doing it the wrong way, as usual.

"Holy shit! Mom?! What happened?!" Carol spun around and leered at her foul-mouthed daughter, who was flying down from the window of her room with concern, her pajamas fluttering in the breeze.

"Language Vicky! I'm fine, I got what I was looking for." She looked down on the two syringes, and Vicky looked suspicious. "I know what it looks like Vicky, but I have the feeling the Merchants aren't just worthless druggies, and that cape who knocked you out, Dealer, says these will help Amy...and your father." Carol wasn't one to admit it, but she missed the man she let into her heart.

"What if they don't trust it?" Victoria asked seriously, and Carol just sighed.

"Then...I'll ask them to trust Me." Carol urged, and entered her home with her daughter, hoping this wasn't for nothing, that she didn't literally drag herself through the dirt and possibly ruin New Wave's reputation without helping her family at all. At least hopefully Amy would be able to verify the safety of the items she'd brought home and would more easily go along with it….


	19. Interlude 2c

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Matron**_

[Saturday, November 6, 2010]

It was a wonderful morning. The sun was shining, the unusual chill that bit to the bone just last week seemed to have fallen to the wayside for Brockton Bay's usual temperate weather. That was The Bay for you, as fickle as she was both beautiful and ugly. Sarah Pelham was sitting at her kitchen table, enjoying a fresh cup of coffee with the window open. "Hey beautiful." Sarah perked up some more at the voice of her beloved husband, and she leaned back to let the towering 7-foot tall man lean down and kiss her, getting her to hum appreciatively.

"Mmm, you still know how to wake me up." Sarah teased her husband Neil with a flutter of her eyes.

"Now, now. If I let you go on we'll end up wasting the morning." Neil joked with a wink, getting Sarah to pout as he went to get himself some coffee as well. "So what time are they going to show?"

"Believe it or not, in about eight minutes. Carol said she had news and wanted to share it." Sarah wondered what her sister was so excited, yet hesitant about. Her tone over the phone was an odd mixture of anticipation and concern, but Sarah wasn't going to make excuses to get out of a family get-together, even if it was for the whole day. She was especially eager to see Amy. The girl had everyone worried as of late with the revelation of her addiction to Vicky's aura.

"What? But it's not even eight on a Saturday." Neil was visibly aghast at the idea of getting up so early to go somewhere on a Saturday that wasn't a special occasion. The Dallon house was barely a few blocks away from the Pelham home, they visited each other as often as they went to their own homes, the only difference was that today was supposedly an all-day event.

"Carol said if she didn't manage to drag the girls here first thing, they'd go off on their own. Part of what she wanted to share I think. If Amy's well enough to just go around town with Vicky again, I'm hoping it means good news." Sarah said as she tried to move her blond hair out of her eyes, her bangs having grown a bit long, and she blew the fringe out of her vision, figuring it was time again for a haircut.

"Well we can only hope. Want me to go get the kids up?" Neil asked his wife, who snorted and nodded. "Well. Wish me luck. I'm about to face the challenge of getting teenagers out of bed on a Saturday."

"I'm sure my big strong husband can manage to face two little villains in their one-room lairs." Sarah played along, and Neil managed to look as if he was bracing himself before he left the kitchen with his coffee, and Sarah couldn't avoid her eyes latching onto his shorts-clad rear as she bit her lip. Sarah's marital fantasizing was interrupted by her doorbell, and she blinked, looking over at the microwave to see it was still five until 8. "Geez Carol, what's this about?" Sarah asked herself in wonder, getting up and straightening out her shirt and pants as she walked to the door.

"Aunt Sarah!" Vicky cheered as she barrelled through the front door while Sarah had barely opened it, and proceeded to grab her aunt in a hug, actually lifting her up and twirling in the air of the living room. "We've got such great news!"

"Whatever it is, it has to be to get you this excited." Sarah replied with an indulgent smile, letting her own powers take over the reins of her leave from the floor, separating from Vicky but remaining arm's length. "I mean, you're flying in a skirt, without bike shorts." Sarah said casually, and Vicky squeaked as she curled her legs over her rear and pressed down on the front of her skirt as she sank to the floor. "Just wear pants dear, it simplifies things."

"We all know trying to get Vicky away from skirts is like trying to get a dog to give up it's hoard of bones." Came the voice of Amy, and Sarah beamed as she looked to her adopted niece, only to freeze, and be completely at a loss at the sight of her. "Yeah, it's a shock isn't it?"

"You're a foot taller!" Sarah managed to get out, and indeed Amy had shot up like a weed in the intervening days since she'd seen her niece. She must've been 6-feet 4-inches tall now, towering over her sister who had settled down and was grinning up at her now-taller sister as she beamed at Sarah and flipped her impressive mane of back-length curly brown hair over her shoulder. Then there was the fact that Amy had bloomed and looked like a full-grown woman with her larger chest and wider hips, but she wasn't exaggerated. Sarah had seen shorter women of Amy's proportions every day after all, save the quite obvious muscles. Seeing her wearing what seemed to be one of Mark's shirts and jeans also sold that this was indeed as sudden as it seemed.

"Yeah, ingesting extremely potent bacteria that kicks the pituitary gland in the rear will do that. I'm going to go upstairs and see if I can't spook Crystal and Eric." Amy practically shined with joy at the idea before walking with speed towards the stairs, and Vicky giggled as she floated after her buff sister.

"W-what? Carol, what...just...what?" Sarah floated down to the floor, using her powers to help her stand as she felt weak in the knees. "Is that really Amy?"

"Yes." Carol said as she walked in with Mark, who seemed much more animated as he was smirking and shaking his head rather than blandly stumbling through life. "Mark, go make sure Amy doesn't break another door please?"

"Yes honey." Mark snorted, clearly amused as he moved past the blond sisters towards the stairs, and he chuckled as Sarah heard her daughter Crystal squeal and Amy and Vicky start laughing somewhere upstairs.

"Did...Mark just…?" Sarah was beside herself with disbelief, and Carol closed the front door as she led her sister to her own living room, seating Sarah in her husband's large recliner. "What's going on? What's happened?" Sarah nearly demanded of her sister, who looked guilty, and took her own seat on the couch. "Is this a wine thing?" Sarah could go for some wine right about now, even this early in the morning.

"I think we need to be lucid right now. Even if I'd rather be a few glasses in before I get started." Carol admitted, and then took a bracing breath. "I went to the Merchants for help with Amy."

"What?!" Sarah replied in shock. "Carol, what were you thinking? They may be changing their operations, but they're still a violent villain gang."

"I know. I'm sorry. I've put New Wave's reputation-."

"To hell with our reputation!" Sarah interrupted her sister, who balked at the very thought of ignoring their PR. "Carol, my sister. You, just went, to Villains. To help someone you dislike instinctively at best." Sarah paused, letting the giggling gaggle of girls that included her daughter Crystal be led by the amazonian Amy out back, followed shortly by the chatting fathers and Sarah's son Eric without them giving the two sisters much attention, which was just as well. "So I'm sorry if I find this hard to believe, even with the proof now frolicking around my backyard."

"Sarah, I had to do something. I couldn't just…." Carol considered how to elaborate, and Sarah, seeing her sister being tied up in knots, decided it best to lead her into it.

"Let's do this like a legal briefing. To get facts straight, start from the beginning." Sarah's words made Carol sigh.

"You know I didn't want to take in Amy at all. I wanted to just dump her into foster care and be done with it once we had her father Caged. I always kept thinking; 'she'll be no different'." Carol shuddered and took another cleansing breath, hearing it obviously struck a nasty cord. "I always felt, after...our Trigger Event, that I couldn't trust anyone. Ever. I barely trusted Mark and I love him. I only ever fully trusted you, Crystal, Eric, and Vicky."

"Because we were blood. Because we were Family, and you had some of you in us, and us in you. Genetic Fallacy. Oh Carol." Sarah sighed in disappointment, but gestured for her sister to continue laying bare her thoughts and feelings. This was why they had therapists, but Sarah supposed that, judging by Carol's admission, she never let her own therapist see more than superficial issues. Perhaps that Mrs. Yamada woman who was helping Amy would be a more suitable option?

"So. Because of this, I decided, I would Never let Amelia Claire Lavere into my heart, even if I was forced to let her into my home. I would force her onto the path of righteousness and even pacifism to prevent her becoming remotely like her father." Carol chuckled remorsefully, shaking her head. "I'm such a hypocrite. New Wave was supposed to be about Honesty and Accountability, and I've been lying and ignoring my responsibilities since before we even tried to start it."

"Getting off topic Carol." Sarah warned, trying not to give in to the urge to cradle her sister's head to her chest like when they were younger. When Carol wasn't so broken.

"Sorry. What I am getting at is that I Let Amy suffer. I Made her suffer. She has obsessively sacrificed every bit of herself in trying to get my attention and approval. She has no social life outside of Vicky, she just heals people non-stop without intervention. She even lost sleep over it, getting up in the middle of the night to walk to the nearest hospital and keep healing. I did Nothing but enable such self-destructive behavior, and even punished her for things she was at no fault for." Carol looked towards the windows at the back of the house. "That beautiful young woman out there is a product of my neglect and hate, in spite of it in fact."

"Now for the important part. What changed your mind and made you help her?" Sarah needed to know this. If it was something petty, she was going to get Amy away from her Carol. Two children of her own and a full home or not, if she had to take in Amy she would, like she should have so long ago.

"Sarah...what would you do if Crystal begged you to kill her?" Carol asked in a haunted tone, and Sarah felt her heart skip.

"What?" Sarah couldn't fathom such a thing. Her beautiful, confident, strong daughter asking her to end her life? "I...I don't know."

"Amy did. I was already being turned around, finding out Amy was suffering due to my neglect and letting things become as they are. One day, Vicky had to practically carry Amy inside, she was suffering withdrawal. Badly. I helped her to her bedroom, and went to get her dinner. When I went back up, she was broken. I held her, and she wailed, pathetically. Begging me to…." Carol couldn't finish, tears filling her eyes and she choked.

"Oh god…." Sarah could see it now. Carol's whole worldview regarding Amy, and hopefully others as well, likely shattered in that moment. Knowing her sister, she would from there throw herself into a whole pit of Marquis clones to right her wrongs and try to make the world right again. "Do you know why this itself may have changed you?"

"I'm no psychologist Sarah. But...seeing her so weak, so resentful of me, but completely at the mercy of her situation…." Carol rubbed her arms uncomfortably, and Sarah shuddered, realizing the parallels.

"You're not like those monsters." Sarah stated as earnestly as she could, but Carol just slumped in the recliner.

"Tell that to Amy." Carol nearly whispered.

The two sisters fell silent, the heavy emotions and tension making further conversation seemingly impossible. Thankfully, it didn't seem to be necessary as Amy came bursting through the house, nearly diving for the television remote, and rapidly turning it on. "Amy?! What's the rush?" Sarah asked of her focused niece.

"News, news, local…." Amy quickly navigated the channel selection, having to toss her long mane of curly brown hair over her shoulders since it got tossed forwards from her quick motions. "Oh, so that's what the ruckus is."

Before either sister could ask, the rest of the family came in to see the local news station reporting live. "-As you can see, the impromptu street race has thus far blazed a jagged trail through Downtown, around Arcadia, and is looping around past Clarendon High School towards Captain Hill. Again, all attempts to interfere with the massive street race has been completely stopped by a mobile area-denying force field around the race that extends about a quarter mile ahead of a seemingly predetermined route."

"Pulling up the Uber and Leet livestream." Declared Eric from the computer in the corner of the living room. "Yep, it's them." Eric scratched his blue-dyed hair as he increased the volume.

"-The Eight-Six has pulled another drift pass into the lead! Takumi's form is amazing today!" Came the voice of who was likely Leet, but wearing a convincing realistic mask and using a voice synonymous with announcers. "But RJ's not giving him any breathing room! He's constantly pressuring Takumi in his slipstream and trying to side-draft past him!"

"What video game is this?" Mark asked curiously, as it seemed to all of them to just be a rather rambunctious take on a rally race, but Uber and Leet don't do a stunt unless it's video game themed.

"Probably most all street racing games, but that old coup in the lead's really unique." Eric commented as they watched the overhead view of the race as the 10 or so cars all shifted amongst themselves for positions.

"It's an Eight-Six GT Apex Sprinter Trueno." Everyone shot their eyes to Amy, who blushed at realizing she was the center of attention. "I-it's a Toyota Corolla from the Eighties…." Amy simplified, and everyone was still gawking at her. "What?! I have hobbies! And there's a lot of automotive magazines laying around in hospitals…."

"Okay, so what should be done about this? If at all?" Sarah asked of everyone, and they all looked amongst each other, before Sarah decided to put Amy on the spot again, see if she had insight since she obviously knew more about cars than most of them. "How about you Amy?"

"Uh...well, whatever that area-denial field is, it's keep everyone off the race track and there's no reports of injuries. Also, that race is fixed, there's no way that Eight-Six can lose with the path they've been taking." Amy pouted, and everyone else didn't know what to say to that. "But yeah, we've gotta do something. They're a distraction. It couldn't be more obvious."

"But how can we do what the Protectorate has failed to? Velocity can't get into their mobile field either and he's been outrunning them." Neil stated as he pointed out in the video that was ignoring the red blur rapidly moving over a quarter-mile ahead of the race, only to suddenly be popped off to the side when an invisible barrier seemed to decide he belonged elsewhere.

"Tinkertech Bullshit." Vicky groaned, and Carol leered at her daughter, but didn't say anything.

"...It's only affecting people." Sarah realized, seeing that while cars and other vehicles were also being moved, they weren't a static object, and parked cars on the sides of the road weren't affected at all. "It's specifically moving people out of the way of the race."

"So there's nothing we can do?" Carol asked with some irritation, and Amy was the one to interrupt any dissonance.

"Um...if anyone's okay with some property damage, we can stop them easily." Amy's suggestion got the family's attention, and Sarah gestured for her to continue. It was good to see Amy finally coming out of her shell, even if it was from such horrible causes. "All I need is a few trees, and to predict where the race is going."

"Well that's easy, the news just put up a map Armsmaster has posted as a bulletin for the projected track of the rest of the race, with it ending in the mountains past Captain's Hill. By that point though, there's not really much point in stopping them besides to try and capture them." Mark stated as he used the Pelham's DVR to pause the news on the map.

"No, but that street, here, in Captain's Hill, there's a few dying oak trees the city's been ignoring, and it's at a bend. Perfect, they wouldn't see it until they round the post office and by then it'd be too late to turn around at those speeds." Amy smirked viciously and cracked her knuckles. "Okay everyone let's suit up! We've got a race to stop. We stop that Eight-Six, and the field will likely break down."

"What makes you say that?" Sarah asked as everyone else ran for the stairs to get their costumes, the Dallons having spares kept here for such an occasion. "Crystal don't fly in your skirt!"

"We're family mom it's okay." Crystal scoffed as she and her cousin Vicky both flew over the others up the stairs, and Sarah let out a long-suffering sigh over her niece and daughter's disregard for modesty.

"Well, that Eight-Six is obviously an homage to Initial-D, an old Japanese cartoon. I never watched it, but the magazine I read referenced it as part of it's column on the AE86. The fact it's white and has Japanese characters on the doors also helps clarify that. Knowing them, Uber and Leet were just giggling to put references in this stunt, and I heard somewhere as a joke that an AE86 becomes a 5000 horsepower machine on Eurobeat." Amy snorted, and Sarah looked confused. "Eurobeat is a genre of music, now go get dressed aunt Sarah."

"What about you Amy? I know your robes were loose, but you've gained a foot and then some." Sarah asked as she eyed Amy in her father's clothes. Even so her chest caused the shirt to expose some of her chiseled abdomen and her hips were obviously squeezed tightly into the jeans. "I don't think your robe would go past your knees now."

"Oh, I have a new costume." Amy smirked, and Sarah blinked. "C'mon, my costume is easier to get on than yours." Amy moved to the back door, and Sarah followed curiously. "Sorry in advance, but it won't be hurt." Amy went to the old elm tree that Sarah had in her backyard, and she gawked as Amy worked her magic.

Her niece literally just touched the trunk of the tall tree, and it seemed to lose height as Amy was coated from her hands all the way down to her shoes in wood, and then it grew over her head. But then it began to find definition, molding to the young woman like a second skin despite her clothes underneath, and let her long hair out in a ponytail in the back. "So, what do you think?"

Sarah was at a loss for words to describe the artistic and rather impressive wooden rendition of a person before her that seemed to be both made of wood, and wearing wood medieval armor as the breastplate, visored helmet, and greaves attested. "It's...impressive. Are you rebranding?"

"Naw, I'm still Panacea, but now I kick ass as well as save it!" Amy gushed, before pointing back at Sarah's house. "Now go get dressed! You're not going out in your bed shirt and sweats are you?"

Sarah smiled, and felt her heart warm at realizing that Amy was indeed getting better. "Yes dear. But when we get back, you get to prune and tend my tree." Sarah went inside, enjoying her niece bemoaning being reduced to a gardener.


	20. Chapter 15

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Reaction 2.6**_

[Saturday, November 6, 2010]

After Brandish had been sent off, the crew had decided to be more careful about our recruiting, because if even a memorable face like Carol Dallon's could be overlooked from just some dirt and ratty clothes, what's to stop some goons from the other gangs infiltrating? This didn't slow down recruiting however, some of the ones who refused before sought us out when they thought more on it.

The fact we'd snatched them from ABB territory probably had something to do with it, and being non-asian in their areas was bad enough when you had a home or apartment, being homeless just made you a target for abuse as some of them coming back with enormous bruising and broken fingers and toes attested. The ones who came back beaten also said that Lung was purposefully targeting non-asian homeless people, in case they were 'spies'. WIth that, Skidmark got pissed. Really pissed. He declared we were going to start grabbing every homeless person we could from ABB territory.

However, we were going to filter any Asians by having Mush or Train interrogate them, which often involved nothing more than blustering and empty threats to try and crack any ABB sympathizers and dump them off in E88 turf if they were.

Of course, neither the ABB, E88, OR the PRT/Protectorate were letting us operate without interruption. Word on the street was that Lung was also gearing up for war, conscripting even more unwilling Asians into his gang to cope with the rampant losses he'd suffered from our raids, and I along with the Rats hadn't missed the sudden absence of several asian teens at Winslow.

Kaiser was apparently completely ambivalent to the situation, having declared he would not make any moves and let the 'lesser races' thin themselves out. Obviously he was just waiting for one of us to be beaten and then swoop in for the finishing blow, but any attempts we made to recruit the few street urchins in his areas was met with instant hostility. We'd almost lost a van and two Jeepers when some skinheads opened fire the instant they tried to drag a bum out of his alley and into the van. He didn't make it.

Then there was the PRT and Protectorate. They'd declared a minor state of alert, that all homeless are encouraged to seek asylum in homeless shelters guarded by BBPD officers that had PRT oversight considering they were trying to 'protect' the homeless from a criminal cape organization. The heroes were even doing more PR stunts, having the Wards give QnA sessions and the older heroes give statements to pacify public concern.

Of course it took us rocking the boat for them to even do anything.

However, despite the drawbacks, our numbers were huge. In all, the whole crew now numbered at least 400 strong, a quarter of that special JCP units. We were practically a military contract short of being a paramilitary group, especially once Trainwreck started making weapons for the Jeepers, so they didn't just have second-hand shotguns. Hydraulic powered quarrel launchers able to launch bug bombs and other relative sized items, and other unconventional and genius things he was quite eager to build were on the way.

But this also made another problem. We needed more space.

The Fishery was huge, it could easily house 200 in cramped conditions in the numerous sleeping rooms, but with our current situation, we were actually almost standing room only whenever we congregated. Considering how big the original crew is now in body size along with all the lowbies, that's a very big problem, especially with all the food we are constantly going through. In fact, most of the money we've stolen from the ABB is actually being used to commission Uber and Leet for large shipments of food, since they have a food replicator or something like it.

"Alright you glorious shit-stains!" Skidmark bellowed from his place up on stage in the main area of the fishery, I and the other capes were behind him as he addressed the majority of the crew that could gather at 8 am, squeezing into the large space like sardines. "It's come to our attention that, we may have overextended." Obviously. "So, we've gotta expand beyond the Fishery." Good idea, bet Sherrel thought of it. "So we've got a place scoped out and we've got some work to do." Skidmark patted a flexed bicep, something he could now do thanks to Surge. He was almost as tall as Kat, and was very lean and wiry unlike the bruisers of the crew, so with his cleaned-up costume, he almost seemed a respectable person.

"What's the place?!" Shouted someone in the massive crowd.

"Oh, you'll love the new digs we've been investigating! Remember the old trainyard?!" Skidmark hinted, getting a large portion of the crew to cheer, some of them used to be Union before the city's economy collapsed, so even being around the Fishery was a nostalgic trip for them, the Trainyard would obviously evoke much the same. "Yep! We're going to be sending half of all of ya to a secured section of the freight shipping yards!"

"What's he talking about?" I tuned out Skidmark as I leaned towards Mush to ask, who unfortunately shrugged.

"No idea, I've been busy with things here." Mush himself had benefited from Surge too, losing his potbelly and getting bigger, but the formerly small and scrawny pink imp didn't develop like a human normally would, getting wider more than tall, he was still barely six feet but he was like a wall of muscle under his still ever-present mass of rags. "But I've heard Squeals and Train have been working overtime on this move."

"So that explains why they haven't been around the past couple of days since Brandish's visit." I commented, and I had to wonder exactly how we were going to move 200 people all at once without notice, even if it was through a derelict part of the city and just barely five miles.

"-so without any more of my bullshit, this is how we're gonna pull off moving 200 of your ugly asses!" I focused back on Skidmark to see him holding a remote, and he pressed some buttons on it which turned on a projector.

"Hello~ Merchants! It's us, Uber!" Announced the muscular man on the screen, who was now wearing a casual outfit of a white T shirt and jeans with a very uncannily realistic mask of some asian guy with brown hair instead of his own blond hair.

"And Leet!" Followed the now leaner Leet, wearing a nice suit and also wearing a very realistic mask, but of a caucasian man with blond hair instead of his own brown hair.

"We're gonna be helping you guys out since Squealer and Trainwreck have been so kind as to help us out." Uber traded off.

"Dear god, thank you two so much." Leet practically breathed his gratitude to Squealer and Trainwreck, who had moved into the view of their end of the transmission. "I had no idea that's how my Specialty worked."

"Glad to help. Especially since it means you'll be an even bigger help to us and your own enterprise." Squealer beamed at the still scrawny tinker.

"Since it helps us get more ideas, I'm pretty stoked to have helped you out." Trainwreck added. "Now, what's the plan in full? I might've forgot some of it when Leet showed me that steampunk pack of his."

"Come down from Tinker Heaven guys, fuck." Skidmark grinned with understanding. "Well anyway, is everything ready on your end? Plan's kinda on hold if not."

"Yeah, we've got it ready, if our costumes didn't tip you off." Uber grinned, before going still, and his entire demeanor changed to one of idle indifference. "Yo, we gonna go?" He asked in a completely different voice, like some sort of bored Japanese teenager.

"Let's get this race started~!" Declared Leet in a convincing announcer voice, and they ran off screen.

"Okay, we don't have long, so listen up!" Squealer barked, and what little conversation was going on in the crowd hushed instantly. "Uber and Leet are providing a distraction Downtown and towards Captain's Hill. While they've got the authorities and gangs distracted, we're going to convoy all 200 of the lowbies to the new location to help set up shop."

"But none of the good drivers are here!" Called out one of the members of the massive crowd, getting nervous agreements providing that indeed none of the more skilled designated van drivers were even in the crowd.

"That's because they're fucking risking their asses with Uber and Leet! So any of you who know how to drive the vans, get in your rides, load up, and get fucking moving!" Skidmark urged, getting everyone to start moving with purpose as a live feed to whatever Uber and Leet were up to started on the projector. "Deal, Mush, I need you two running protection on the vans. With Train busy helping Squeals with the other part of the plan, you two and I are the only capes to make sure nothing fucks with our guys."

"Got it." I and Mush said almost at the same time, and we rushed off for our separate purposes. I didn't know what Mush did for prep these days, but I was heading to my lab to make sure all of my equipment was ready to go. "Howard, Kat, where's Rahj?" I asked as I entered to find Howard kitting up with a spare Jeeper mask and a couple of my aerosols, he was tall and lean, just breaking six feet, he didn't get much taller than that so Surge really only could work with individual genetic potential, since Rahj got bulkier and slightly taller than him.

"He's one of the drivers for whatever harebrained scheme Uber and Leet are up to. So I'm your driver today, be patient with me, I've only driven one of the rigs a few times." Howard warned me as he loaded a bullet in the chamber of his pistol and put the safety back on. I turned towards Kat, and tilted my head at her attire.

"What? Not much protective covering for a gal my size." Kat excused as the reason she was covered literally from head to toe in tattered rags haphazardly sewn together. Whoever did it was skilled enough though that despite it being literal trash, it looked more intimidating than frumpy, especially considering it inflated her image even more with the layers of loose rags laid over one another. Of course, it couldn't hide she was female with her obscene proportions, but nobody would be able to see her face or even an inch of skin. Then again, she seemed all too eager to completely change herself.

"Kat, I never bothered to ask about your life before this." I struck up in conversation as I checked all my pockets, had everything including my Sick Spray, and focused on her as I followed Howard towards our designated van, it had dollar signs all over it in green when not invisible.

"You were doing so well too." Kat snarked, clearly not wanting to touch the subject. "Let's just say this is much better than my childhood and leave it at that."

"Are you so desperate to forget who you used to be that you…." The silent leer from her outfit's featureless sack-head was enough of a cue for me to understand that yes, it was why she was so eager to become something different, even maybe inhuman, why she likely became a drug addict too. "I will respect your wishes. The Nutrigel bacterium is stable this time around, I was going to tell you later, but if you want to change so much, I'll give you incentive to keep safe if something happens."

"...Thank you." Kat softly whispered and kissed my scalp through her mask and my hood. "God I wish I found a guy like you years ago." Kat quietly commented as she got in the back and I went around the side of the van to get in the shotgun seat.

"Dealer this is Dispatch." Came the voice of the woman who usually managed the desk in the motor pool, but was now a proper radio dispatch on our frequency. "You'll be running rear guard. Skidmark will be vanguard and Mush is in the middle of everything, Over."

I picked up the receiver of the radio to respond. "Roger. We'll dissuade any pursuers, Over." I responded, then put the receiver back in it's rest, and pressed the comm button on my mask. "Peepers, what's the sitch on overwatch? Over."

"We've got three bird nests on the route, lead rain ready when needed, Over." Came the voice of Shelly, the woman who had more or less taken lead of the Peepers as Tie-Dye had the Jeepers. Through respect and charisma. She was also the one who was a stickler for at least amateur radio conduct.

"Ten-Four, we'll be much safer in that case, Over." Well then, this invisible convoy may be the biggest thing the Merchants have ever done yet, but considering it's through the mostly abandoned industrial sector of the city, and with Uber and Leet making a very visible display of themselves with help from our guys, having the Peepers on overwatch just meant that almost nobody could legitimately ruin this operation.

Except the capes of the gangs, considering the heroes will be so busy even if they did somehow find out, they'd be too late to do anything. But this was also clearly a perfect time to attack, and if there IS a mole...well, this would be the perfect proof that we have a traitor if something goes wrong. Bet this is Squealer's plan too. Seriously, why doesn't Skidmark just name her the leader instead of just being the figurehead? By this point it's obvious who's really in charge here.

"Dealer, everyone's out but you, just follow the route at roughly cruising speed. Don't ask for the route, your driver has it in mind, just maintain radio silence unless there's an emergency, Over." Yep, Sherrel suspects a Mole.

"Okay, we're going to be driving nice and slow, if we bump something invisible, something may be wrong. If that happens, Kat's gonna be the one to get out and check." Howard informed as the van cloaked and began to slowly edge out of the motor pool.

Despite knowing the van kept all noise from escaping, we kept silent so we could listen for anything. The radio was completely silent, not even idle chatter we were used to since we're a gang, not military or union. I myself was thankful anxiety was something I was immune to for situations like this and before with Brandish.

Howard shifted in his seat uncomfortably, Kat kept moving around in the back, keeping an eye all around us. "Skidmark here, made it to the Spot without any trouble, I'll be on alert to double back, Over." Skidmark's voice jolted my companions somewhat.

"Roger Skidmark, Over." Dispatch replied, and after that, more vans started calling in their arrivals, which made my two companions visibly relax.

Then the world tumbled.

I had no idea what happened, one moment I was looking out and to the right at a fire hydrant we were passing that had been spray painted red and green, the next thing I knew I was sandwiched against a cracked window with gravity pressing me to it, and my ears were filled with ringing, everything was moving without me.

I coughed, winced at the stab that caused in my ribs, and tried to move. My arm wasn't responding. I looked down, and saw the curb had smashed the reinforced door inward from the impact, crushing my arm and causing me to bleed profusely from the bones shattering and piercing my skin. Then the pain came. I grunted, gritting my teeth as I reached out with my left arm, grabbing towards Howard's seat, and grabbed something wet.

I looked, and saw Howard still in his seat by the seat belt with nearly a quarter of his head gone, the back left corner, his mask had protected his face and neck. Blood gushed profusely around the open wound, and I watched for a second in fascination as I could see his brain regenerating faster than the rest as he groaned without comprehension. Howard was alive, somehow, even if he'd be malnourished from his body taking materials from other places. It seems whatever just happened had taken out the left middle of the van. Oh no, Kat!

My body surged with energy, my Assistant, my Project, was in danger or possibly dead and my powers clearly did not like the idea that my premier test subject may be dead. Adrenaline pumped through me, and I growled as I bodily pulled myself free of the door using my own seat, and looked back in time to see Kat get flung back into the van through the partially missing undercarriage, apparently having gotten out, and she screamed as a stream of fire buffeted her!

"YOU ASSHOLE! THAT FUCKING HURTS!" Kat furiously screamed through her pain as the stream of flame died down, revealing her treated outfit wasn't aflame, just singed and a bit glassy as the intense heat caused the fiberglass in the Balcoat to melt and fuse with the bonded material. It was near useless now, she wouldn't be able to avoid it fusing to her skin if she didn't shuck it off now.

"Fucking mouthy bitch." Came a vindictive and resonating man's voice. "I'll shut that trap for good." There was only one male pyrokinetic in Brockton.

"Fuck off Lung!" Kat screeched, grabbing a piece of debris and chucking it out of the van at the villain I couldn't see, but his howl of pain and surprise was enough to remind me I had to get out and keep my Pet alive. I managed to get to my feet as Kat dove out the back of the sideways rear doors and dodge a fireball. I muffled my groan as I tried to get over the seat and my arm rapidly healed, the bone that had been through the skin pulling back in with with a sickening squelch, I just hoped that whatever bone fragments were in me would be processed as well or I had amateur surgery to look forward to.

I ignored Howard's limp form as he began groaning more coherently, and managed to get past the seats, panting as I rushed out the back and saw Kat dodging fireballs and streams of flame from the enraged 8-foot tall gang leader whose rippling muscles danced under his intricate mosaic of oriental tattoos since he forwent upper clothing and only wore jeans and cheap shoes along with his metal dragon mask.

Before I could even make myself known, Lung suddenly crumpled like a puppet with it's strings cut, and a spray of blood and bone erupted from the back of his head.

Did...did the Peepers just Kill Lung?

I almost believed it too, but of course Lung had to be a tough one and burst into flame, suddenly erupting in size and sprouting metal scales, they must've just barely grazed his skull with the distance they had on him.

I took out a bug bomb from my coat which had that expanding fog that worked so well on Halloween, which in broad daylight like this wouldn't last very long from the heat of the sun. Again I am thankful for my powers when Lung looked down on Kat and I from his new excessive 10-foot height, his morphed draconic face a grim promise of future pain and death. "Fond you!" Guess he was expecting me.


	21. Chapter 16

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Reaction 2.7**_

[Saturday, November 6, 2010]

I faced off against Lung with Kat at my side. Kat was constantly hissing in pain, likely from her costume literally bonding to her skin from the melted glass and scorched cloth. She was going to be fine despite the pain, but her body was likely constantly trying to repair damage with the blockage not letting it, so she'd be tired quick and need a lot of nutrition soon if we made it out of this.

Lung suddenly roared, literally, and began charging across the street towards us, which was thankfully at an angle away from the van so I didn't have to consider losing Howard in his rush if we juked left, so I did and quickly dropped the bug bomb, which exploded in a rapidly expanding cover of a thick fog-like cover that billowed up and out like a smoke bomb. No name for it though, can't figure out one catchy enough, fog bomb maybe.

Thankfully Kat had noticed and had ended up running down the street alongside me, the cover would only stall him a few seconds, so I grabbed her hand and darted into the alley on our side of the road that was just one in a maze of abandoned city apartment projects meant to house what was once a bustling port's grunt-level workers.

"Fuck!" Kat shouted and yanked me to the right side of the old brick masonry as a ball of fire flew down the alley. This is bad, very bad. We dodged another fireball from the burning metal rage-dragon that burst from the fog as we kited him back south towards the more populated areas through the maze of old project buildings with my lungs and legs burning from the exertion as Kat and I jumped over an overturned trash can through another alley towards the bay, ignoring the roaring and crumpling as Lung continued his fevered pursuit, tearing long gouges in the eroding masonry as he went.

I had no idea who told him how, where, and when to hit my van specifically, but if I got my hands on them I'd be glad to make them test some things for me without any safeties. Apparently, I can feel emotions at this time, it seems my power actually wants me to feel things during confrontations, because I was experiencing an inkling of fear, frustration, a rush of something, and the odd urge to try and fight back against the burning death on our heels.

"C'mon Deal! Lord Street's just ahead!" Kat called back towards me, since with her being the more fit between us she clearly decided to scout ahead and led me onward. What she neglected to mention was Lord Street was still almost a quarter mile away, and the Boardwalk another mile or so further down it. Then there was the fact that indeed it seemed Uber and Leet had stirred up the hornet's nest as the PHQ Rig in the bay was scrambling air support towards Downtown, and we'd be lucky if they even noticed Lung's blaze in the projects so far off from their intended course.

I reached into one of my many coat pockets, and pulled out some caltrops made from rusty old nails and bonded/reinforced with Balcoat. They'd probably do nothing, but they might be a nuisance. I dropped them amidst the mess of our current alley, avoiding a thrown burning bag of garbage, and was rewarded with a roar of pain as the lumbering oaf passed over my feeble trap. I felt a smirk form on my face as I followed my companion, appreciating her shape now that I could actually feel, if this is what it felt like to fight, maybe I should do field work more often.

"Ah!" Kat screamed as Lung had suddenly burst from a wall ahead of us in a shower of brick and fire, the brickwork shattering around his metallic body before he breathed fire at us from his cross-mandible maw, and I desperately pulled Kat back around the corner we'd just rounded, she yelped as his fire glanced her, and then we bolted down another alley. "Fuck he's persistent!"

"He wouldn't be a threat if he wasn't!" I commented breathlessly. This was fun! I can't believe I'm even thinking this, but running like this, death on the line, my body screaming in protest, my heart trying to leap out of my chest. It was a rush. Even the terror in the back of my skull was a wondrous thing compared to the numbness. "We've gotta get the attention of the authorities! The others can't handle Lung!"

"And the heroes can?!" Kat demanded in confusion, and I couldn't help but notice how cute she sounded when she was confused.

"No, but they'd make a nice distraction!" I declared to my possible girlfriend. Seriously, fuck my powers. It takes a life-or-death running sort-of battle with one of the most dangerous villains in the city for me to feel anything?! Fuck you powers!

We had to duck under another stream of fire, and this time I dropped a bug bomb of my Air-Yes, and I grabbed Kat tighter to rush away from it. I was rewarded with an explosion when the fire ignited the very flammable pocket of concentrated oxygen and then detonated the container, collapsing the two brick walls of the alley around it, and I laughed as I tabbed another bug bomb, this time of Sick Spray, and flung it over the debris, making me guffaw at hearing Lung retch from the wave of nauseating bacteria. "Go eat a dick you wannabe komodo dragon!"

"Whoa, Deal?" Kat sounded shocked, and I chuckled as I grabbed her hand and pulled her back into a run. "What's going on? You've never…."

"No clue, blame my power, I think it takes conflict for me to feel much of anything." Boy does that suck, but at least it means I would be rewarded if I get into a scuffle. "FYI, while I can say it, god damn you're hot Kat." I stated bluntly as we weaved through more alleys still heading south.

"Th-thanks?" Kat bewilderedly replied as we continued to try and put distance between us and the leader of the ABB.

"Not just your body either though, your personality is really strong and that's as much a turn-on as anything. If I ever work out a way around my usual emotion block, I'm going to want to go on some dates with you." I stated to my assistant, and the way she squeezed my hand made my chest flutter.

"I'd...love that, very much, if we can somehow do that after I'm some sort of mutant." Kat softly said, moments before Lung burst through another wall behind us, and we picked the pace back up. "Asshole! We were having a moment!"

This was hopeless, we'd burn out long before Lung ever possibly did and help was closer the other way even now with all the distance we'd put between us and them, but we didn't want to pull Lung towards the crew and reap casualties, and at this rate to survive I'd have to pull him into the Fishery which would result in even worse damage to the crew. Nothing for it then.

After we got through another alley in the stretch of apartment projects and ended up in a back-alley basketball court of sorts with a tattered tarpaulin cover, probably for rainy days, I stopped at the end away from where Lung would likely come out, panting as I waited for him to catch up since our enhanced bodies were up to task with the exercise despite my weight. "Deal c'mon! We can't fight him!" Kat protested, trying to pull me onward, but I'd become big and strong enough lately to just shrug her off.

"No choice Kay, help's too far away or not potent enough." I managed to get out between gasps of breath, and Lung slowed down after he burst onto the court once he saw we'd halted, and stopped himself at the other end, possibly savoring us either surrendering or deciding to fight him. "Well. Lung. Would you at least do us the favor of telling us who sold us out?" I figured it was worth a try, but he just laughed my request off.

"Ell oh, awk or eh eek!" The mutant ran at us, his blaze flaring, and Kat squealed in fear, before I held up my deodorant can of Air-No and sprayed right at the towering man-beast's face as I backpedaled. The reaction was instant, he blacked out from taking a lungful of inert carbon dioxide gas, and his flames vanished immediately from no fuel both from the Air-No and from their master's unconsciousness. I had stopped here since this court had shade from the directly overhead late-morning sun, and the Air-No would be more effective.

"Holy shit! Did...did you just one-shot fucking Lung?!" Kat gawked as the unconscious man began shrinking, and I took my slingbow out, and nocked an arrow. This man has caused so much pain, his men killed my father. "Deal?"

"No." I waited until he finished shrinking, and started groaning as he began to wake up. I quickly aimed and put an arrow through the back of his skull, making Kat scream as the man twitched, blood pooled under his face and he stilled. "Now I have. Let's go." I stated as we began slowly walking back towards the Fishery since it was closer. I felt so...satisfied. It didn't last long though, soon the numbness was back, and I calculated that Lung may even survive that if I didn't get anything vital.

Brains were complex things, people had survived having poles through the brain, he might just wake up and pull the arrow out and be back on the prowl, and Howard may heal but he might suffer neurological issues even then, hopefully he won't lose his fine motor control, since the section of his brain he lost was mostly responsible for that.

But that was a maybe, I had no desire to try and hack off the head of a regenerator with a piece of trash, it would be pointless and time consuming. From now on, I'll at least carry a knife. "Holy fuck...you just...curb stomped him!" Kat gushed as we walked, her hand in mine as I led this time, she was likely extremely ecstatic at being able to live another day. "Dude, if you were always this vindictive and passionate, I'd totally jump you!" Or again I am the focus, I am fortunate to have such a devoted assistant.

"Blame my power. Now let's get back, peel those ruined rags from your skin, and see about getting back to work." I think mentioning the molten and singed cloth literally plastered to her body reminded her that it was seared and melted on, getting her to gasp and stumble to the ground.

"Ow~! Why'd you have to bring it up?!" Kat whined as she tried not to move, and I huffed as I hefted the large woman into a bridal carry, my strength and own weight letting me do so fairly easily despite her weighing a few hundred pounds. "Thanks. Such a great guy." Kat complimented as she gingerly moved her left arm over my shoulders and I began the long walk to headquarters.

[Pick Your Poison]

I dutifully ignored the screams of pure agony Kat wailed as I sawed off another section of skin from her back with the hunting knife I had taken from the armory. "FUCKING GOD JUST GET IT OVER WITH~!" Kat screamed with heaving sobs as I skinned another section of molten fabric and flesh from her back, beings she had already done her front herself and needed me to get her head, back, butt, and backs of her legs as she laid on a table. Thankfully her healing was bolstered by consuming some Nutrigel, so she wasn't bleeding everywhere and what have you.

I'd already had to scalp her since the mask had melted to her whole head, burning her hair into hard brittle splinters. She had done her front, including her face, alone in the bathroom, sobbing and screaming the whole time. I was at least getting good data on the Nutrigel boosted Stim recovery rate from flesh wounds like this from her suffering. Unfortunately it made her bald again, shame, she had such a lustrous cascading mane too. "I am sorry, but there's more than-."

"IF YOU SAY 'SKIN A CAT' AGAIN I'LL RIP YOUR NUTS OFF!" Kat screeched furiously, and I shrugged before swiftly sawing a line down the last strip of molten fabric on her back, getting her to scream. At least she wouldn't scar from literally being skinned alive, but as it stood there was no way to get this stuff off aside from an acid bath, which would just be worse. Glass was cruel, I'll have to ante-up the Balcoat recipe to Carbon Fiber, maybe even Kevlar. I cannot guarantee carbon fiber won't lock up under intense heat, so I'll have to see about trying to go straight to kevlar, or even a tinker fabric, I'll consult Leet.

"What is going on here?!" I did not pause and finished Kat's back as Squealer stormed in, freezing at the likely disturbing image of Kat sobbing into her arms, and the area around the table covered in strips of flesh, blood, and ruined cloth. Only good thing to come from this would be a large batch of Stims from using Salve on the bloody flesh.

"Lung melted her outfit onto her body. Have to literally skin it off of her." I explained, getting to work on her large and muscular derriere, at least thankful that my cutting would not deform her rounded buttocks, beings it would be very difficult for her to get comfortable sitting down if I ruined the shape of it.

"Agh! W-what he said! Fuck! That-gah-asshole!" Kat extrapolated in her agony as I got half of her right buttock in a single go, and kept going down her thigh "AGH!"

"Holy fuck! Just...shit. Why haven't you used any heroin?!" Squealer demanded as I reached Kat's foot and finished that strip since Kat got the rest of her feet done herself. It was a logical question, as heroine was literally just 'street morphine' and would've done a great deal to help in this.

"Because I'm never fucking touching that shit again!" Kat declared with disgust. "I'd rather feel every single piece of glass fused to my skin again than to even consider it." Kat shuddered, clenching her eyes shut. "I also don't know if I could resist just falling ass-first into the habit again."

"I did offer her heroin, but as she said she refused. I can applaud such strength of will. Now hold still, I still have half of this side and all the other side to do." I cut into her again, and Squealer rapidly fled the room as I continued skinning my pet cat. I finished with little fanfare, her body having already regrown the skin entirely as I dumped the bloody chunks I could gather out of the glassed meat into a bin and poured Salve into it to make more Stim.

"Feeling better yet Kat?" I asked as I turned back to her, to see she'd blacked out finally, and was dozing prone in the nude on the impromptu operating table at the back of my lab. The whole thing was coated in blood, not to mention her. We'll have to clean this place again.

I carefully picked her up in another bridal carry, and carried her through the fishery to her and Sherrel's room, setting her on the queen sized bed Squealer had managed to squeeze into the room alongside her own bed, covering her up in her blankets. "Sleep well Kat, you have a big day coming up."

"So you finally done butchering her?" I turned to the agitated voice of Sherrel and saw the shapely woman glaring at me. "There could've been an easier way to do that."

"No. Glass is a cruel material. Lung's fire melted her outfit to her nearly instantly. Be sure to spread the word that I'm retiring the fiberglass Balcoat clothes immediately, I'll dump my own personal share of any loot or cash into paying for kevlar to make a superior batch for our clothing." I gestured to Kat as the example such an expensive change necessitated, and Sherrel nodded with a huff.

"Okay, that's all well and good, but we have more immediate problems." Squealer growled as she gestured for me to follow her.

"What else has happened besides Lung ambushing me? And how's Howard?" I added on. I hadn't forgot him, but I knew that since the Peepers saw the encounter, at least at the start, that Howard would've been picked up before any police or PRT did.

"In reverse, Howard's fine. He's...off, but fine." That did not inspire confidence in my lieutenant's wellbeing. "As for besides the ambush, Uber and Leet's distraction got wrecked. Literally."

"Is anyone in captivity?" It wasn't unheard of that an Uber and Leet show would be stopped or interrupted by law enforcement, so I had anticipated having to do a jailbreak for any of our captured members.

"Rahj for one." This got me to pause, and Squealer looked back at me with a grim look. "He's not the only one, c'mon, got a mole to introduce you to." Mole? The one who sold us out, hurt both Kat and Howard, and now Rahj is in custody too? My entire personal cadre has been wiped out in a matter of hours.

I followed Squealer through the fishery to the vault, and Mush was standing guard at the vault, fully submerged in his reinforced cans and looking agitated. Squealer strode in with purpose, and I followed. I was not expecting the person in the cell. "Trainwreck?"

"Hey Deal. Sorry for fucking you over like this." Trainwreck grumbled from his motionless seat in the corner, Skidmark was standing at the bars, leering into the cell at his traitorous subordinate through the multiple layers of his transparent barriers between the treacherous tinker and the bars.

"Like shit you are. If you were, you would've fucking warned us about this sort of shit instead of admitting it after that fucking obvious setup." Skidmark seethed. "Because of you, several of my most valuable lieutenants are either laid out or locked up, and you nearly got Dealer killed. Why, you fucking waste of space, should I not end your miserable cock sucking existence right now?" I was impressed with how well Skidmark was restraining himself. Honestly, it was more interesting to see how much more forceful a restrained and furious Skidmark was to a blatantly pissed off Skidmark.

"Because I already told you, I didn't tell Coil jack shit the past couple weeks. I didn't like sneaking behind your backs once I realized the Merchants were actually going places now. Problem is Tattletale." Trainwreck fumed from his still motionless spot. "Bitch is working for Coil too, but unlike me she's got a fucking gun to her head. She's also legitimately one of the best info brokers in maybe this entire region of the state, so I knew she was good for our hits and kept talking to her even if I ignored Coil."

"So that's it? Bitch cold-read you like a fucking book and you didn't say anything?" Skidmark demanded curiously, and I had to wonder myself, If that was so, even if she's being forced to feed info to Coil, who was obviously the one trying to sabotage us now that we've built up momentum, she was definitely still a good contact if we could get her to be forthright with us.

"Pretty much. I don't begrudge or envy the bitch though, unlike me she's got no choice in her situation. I was just in it for the money, now though, seeing us getting shit together, cleaning up folks. Pretty fucking awesome, don't want to lose that now." Trainwreck stated with a sigh. "I'll sit in here and tinker in silence if you want, just don't kill me or throw me to the wolves."

"...Fuck. I'm not good with this shit. Squeals?" Skidmark referred to his lover with a lost expression in his eyes, and Squealer huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Men. Can't think for themselves, gotta have a woman do it for them." Squealer winked at me, and I had to wonder what she meant by that. "Well, if you want to prove your loyalty in the face of this fuckup, you get to break our boys out of the PHQ. Since they've got superhuman enhancements, they're being treated like capes."

"I'm okay with that, but how do I get to a fucking oil rig that's covered in a hardlight shield?" At Trainwreck's question, Squealer got such a manically gleeful expression to her face I had to question her sanity for a moment.

"Ever go yachting?"


	22. Interlude 2d

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Shieldmaiden**_

[Saturday, November 6, 2010]

The past few weeks have been extremely busy for the Protectorate. Hannah herself was running ragged trying to respond to as many instances of gang violence as possible, as were the rest of her team. She'd been on first response to any incidents involving the Merchants since she saw Skidmark outside of the massive ABB weapons cache, because she knew the Merchants were obviously upping their game and wanted to try and forestall it, so it wrankled that they were still building up for what was obviously a massive city-wide gang war.

So Hannah, currently Miss Militia, was now resting for the first time in days, which to everyone else meant she was doing everyone's paperwork. Not being able to sleep save maybe once a year had its drawbacks, and Armsmaster had, ironically enough, ordered her to get some rest today, citing that her performance would suffer if she didn't give her body time to recover. What a hypocrite, but he wasn't wrong. So here she was, filing paperwork at the Rig while everyone else was responding to the massive street race put together by Uber and Leet.

She was quietly thankful for the monotony of paperwork to be honest. It was one of the few things that she could set herself to that was both productive and non-strenuous. Which was why, when overlooking a report on the movements of the E88 in response to the Merchant's actions, she felt slightly irritated, shifting her power's weapon from a pocket knife to an SAA revolver in a green flash when a PRT trooper that staffed the Rig knocked on her door and entered anyway without waiting for a response. "Ma'am, you're needed at the landing pads for extra security."

"What's the issue Corporal Flora?" Miss Militia asked as she promptly abandoned her paperwork for later, following behind the fully kitted PRT trooper as her weapon changed into a quarterstaff on her back.

"We have Lung." His succinct response caught Miss Militia off guard, causing her to swap the staff for an RPG-7. "Sitrep is that while most of our birds were helping follow and maybe apprehend Uber and Leet as well as their collaborators, one spotted a conflagration at the abandoned projects, and noticed structural damage spreading across the length of it."

"Lung on a rampage, obviously. But who could've put him down long enough for us to bring him in?" Miss Militia asked, hoping they already knew, but Corporal Flora just shook his head.

"Part of why we're calling you up to the landing pads. He'll be here soon, and so will the bust of several of Uber and Leet's cronies thanks to New Wave, but the lone bird took the risk of getting Lung here alone, so we're rushing things a bit." Her guide informed her as they stepped into one of the tinkertech lifts, specifically the only one that went both all the way up to the landing pads and down to the depths of their strongest holding cells.

"Why are we getting their minions and not the BBPD?" Uber and Leet hired minions fairly often, and it wasn't uncommon for them to get caught, and then be sprung out by them, but they never hired any parahumans before.

"Because they're Merchants." Flora informed her, and she narrowed her eyes. That was reason enough, since from what they'd been able to gather, the average Merchant member was to be considered a low-level brute at the least, and no standard jail could possibly contain them without lethal force being immediately resorted to.

The lift silently opened the doors to the roof, also known as the landing pads since the Rig tended to host tinkertech VTOL aircraft, mostly Dragon's, rather than just helicopters. They arrived just in time for a sleek PRT transport helicopter to land. Miss Militia rushed over to the hatch on the back of the craft once the blades had slowed down a bit, just in time for it to lower, and she saw why they were able to bring Lung in.

"Dealer." Miss Militia seethed as her weapon transformed into a perfect copy of the arrow they'd removed from Aegis's arm, and compared it to the one running through Lung's head and pressing into the gurney he was strapped face down into. "It has to be. Same cheap brand, and if we can remove it without killing Lung, likely find it's reinforced with his ballistic resin."

"Christ. With that thing in his brain we might have to ask Panacea to keep him sedated while it's removed." Corporal Flora mused with disgust as the EMTs from the VTOL slowly moved Lung across the roof.

"We might not have to, Armsmaster was working on a tranquilizer specifically for Lung. Cleaning up after the Merchants again or not, I'll consider this another win." Inwardly however, Miss Militia felt that this was likely the breaking point. With their leader gone and Oni Lee possibly still in traction from being shot recently, the ABB would be completely devoid of any reason to follow logic or sensibilities. They may even collapse in on themselves from infighting, considering the ABB was originally made of enemy asian gangs that were all forced to work together by Lung.

"The Dragon of Kyushu finally behind bars. Sounds good to me." Corporal Flora nonchalantly commented as Miss Militia followed behind Lung, but her companion had remained on the landing pad with other assembling troopers as she squeezed into the lift with the EMTs.

"We're taking him to the cell we made just for villains like him. Is he stable?" Miss Militia double-checked, because although Lung's regeneration was legendary, if that arrow even clipped either his Corona or Gemma his powers could have either been severed or altered.

"Everything's surprisingly normal, considering who this is." Said one of the EMTs as she checked a tinkertech device that did an invisible scan of Lung, a nice present from Dragon of the Guild. "And it looks like on second glance that the arrow just managed to miss his Corona and Gemma, and also missed any hard parts of the brain, just went clean through, so removal won't be too hard. Either Lung's a lucky bastard, or the shooter forgot the value of double-tapping."

"Despite his crimes, please refrain from wishing ill on an invalid you're caring for." Miss Militia stressed, and the EMT snorted with a roll of her eyes. Everyone knew that almost nobody would be sad if Lung died in this elevator, but that wasn't their call. They even took the time to carefully wrap gauze around his face to hide his identity and had an emergency blanket covering his waist.

There was no further conversation as the lift took them down to the lowest level of the Rig. Below the waterline and designed to separate and sink to the bottom of the bay in case of a breakout, it was also featuring hardlight cell doors along with special alloy bars, foam sprayers, the works. Dragon herself designed it with Colin's help, so Miss Militia had absolute faith not even Lung would be able to break out on his own unless he had a death wish.

"Leave him in here, we'll get him taken care of after we process the incoming Merchants." At Militia's directions, the EMTs rolled the insensate Lung into the cell on the very end, and left the gurney wholesale since he would need to be moved for surgery later. With that done, Militia parted from the EMTs and activated her communicator hanging on her right ear. "Console, this is Militia. Lung is secure, I'm heading back to the landing pads to provide security."

Miss Militia then paused, realizing something. Corporal Flora had no need to come fetch her, Console would have informed her instead. "Console, do you read?" After more time with no response, Militia opened the fleet channel which was weak over long range and lacking any security. "This is Miss Militia, Console is not responding. Mike Sierra Papa." Master Stranger Protocol phase one. If suspected infiltration, alert all staff possible asap to ensure eyes-on begins.

"Armsmaster here. Militia, investigate. Communications through the Console with the Rig have been silent for several minutes. Papa Mike Sierra." At the confirmation, Militia ran for the emergency stairwell, her weapon forming a Glock 17 loaded with rubber bullets. The stairwell was the intended form of vertical transit in the Rig in situations such as this or fire.

"Confirmed. Investigating. Mike Mike Charlie." With her initial confirmation passphrase signed, she hoped whoever was infiltrating didn't know military Alpha code or they'd have to revert to personal passcodes. Then there was the mystery of how they got on the Rig. Only boats and aircraft have access and nothing but the landing pad had been in use, and the first one to come back had come back after the suspected time Console went dark.

After climbing several floors, Militia was coated in a sheen of sweat as she rushed through the corridors of the floor with the Rig's Console. She noticed a few troopers about, all armed and at the ready with their eyes on each other and Militia as she passed, giving quick passphrases as she rushed by. When Militia reached the door to the Console, two troopers had rifles on it and each other in sight. "Situation? Mike Mike Charlie."

"Confirmed Miss Militia. We have eyes-on, both directions of the hall covered, and the entrance to Console secured. We have not investigated yet and have held position since MS Protocol was initiated." Good, that's what they were supposed to do.

"Good work. Watch my back as I breach and enter." Militia got nods from the two troopers, and her gun turned into an AA12 loaded with bean bag rounds before quickly using a leg to push down the lever and kick the door open, moving to sweep the room as the troopers behind her moved to cover her. "Corporal Flora?" Militia asked as she recognized the nearly-naked man literally duct-taped to the chair at the violently destroyed Console wearing nothing but his heart-print boxers as he mumbled through the tape over his mouth.

Wasting no time, Militia grabbed the tape over his mouth and ripped it, as well as his moustache, off his face. "OW~! Jesus! Militia, Stranger!"

"Militia, Mike Mike Charlie, confirmed Stranger. Eyes-on. Secure Corporal Flora, it is an imposter using his armor." Militia waited, and got nothing. "Militia Mike Mike Charlie, copy!" Nothing. "Full protocols! We're isolated and compromised! We've got to lock down the Rig, follow me!"

Militia moved to pass the troopers, only to dodge at the last second as the one on the left fired at her, and then have to duck the one on the right trying to buttstroke her with his rifle, so she shot him in the gut with her AA12, knocking him back and she moved to take him down, but backed off with the other one aiming instead at the restrained Corporal Flora, who was cursing up a storm at them. "Now, now Miss Militia, this is just a diversion. Don't make us have to bruise you or the good corporal there."

Militia seethed, this level of infiltration was unheard of if you weren't someone like Heartbreaker or the thankfully deceased Nice Guy. She quickly analysed that both of the imposters were using the rubber bullets in the rifles, so his threat on Flora was more for show, and now she'd lost the edge in her hesitation. "Who are you? What is this a diversion for?" On that note, hijacking the Rig was a 'Diversion'?

"To draw the PRT and Protectorate's attention back to the PHQ, as well as Trainwreck assaulting the other heroes solo with Squealer's newest big toy for backup. All while Leet hijacks all the transports with our boys and girls. This was also a test of several things at once." The imposter informed quite helpfully, and the other guy snorted as he rubbed his abdomen.

"Stop fucking grandstanding. Now, Militia, we're going to cuff you, and leave you here. Everyone else has been subdued and shoved into broom closets. You're alone, and even if you took us both down, you're outnumbered and outgunned unless you go for the nuclear option." The one on the right stated, and damn it, he was right. Militia was an amazing combatant, no doubt, but against odds like these, she was just a soldier in enemy territory.

"Just answer me this. I know the Merchants are behind this, but who are you? Not specifically, but you're too well trained to be bums off the street." This made the two bristle, and the one on the left growled.

"Bitch. Not everyone without a home was some couch potato! We were fucking Navy Seals before-."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" The stern one screamed at the mouthy one, who flinched visibly. "No wonder you were kicked out of the Seals! Skills or no, loose lips sink ships dumbass. We're not giving you that. Just know, that former Army, Navy, Air Force, the works, have become homeless, destitute, just like anyone else could be in this failing world. We may be Merchants now, but we're fucking proud of the skills we have and are sharing with others for a worthy cause."

"What cause?" Militia egged, wanting to get something out of this even as she was being restrained by the currently cowed ex-Seal, letting her power be a simple strip of cloth wrapped around her hands and wrists as he handcuffed her.

"Of course nobody listened to Skidmark. He wasn't blowing smoke. We're going to clean up this city. No longer will the average citizen have to worry some half-cocked villain is gonna steamroll over everyone. We're done letting the status quo remain and you half-assed so-called heroes constantly playing cops and robbers with the villains." Militia was then put in another chair next to Flora and duct-taped to it.

"Don't you realize all the damage and danger you're putting the city through? People will be caught in the crossfire!" Militia was appalled. While she hated the slow drudge of constantly nabbing crooks only for them to be back on the prowl shortly after, it was a containable level of risk to the city and its people.

"It's called a controlled burn Militia. Sometimes, to prevent forest fires, you gotta burn an overgrown section of forest. And today, while it was unexpected, we've already removed the hot coals of Lung from the picture. We'll have our hands full rounding up the remnants of the ABB and turning them over to you while absorbing more members into the crew. Hopefully we'll be able to turn over Oni Lee too, or you'll get him. Either way, this chapter's closed if you do your fucking jobs, and get that monster Caged."

"Now who's fucking grandstanding?" Snarked the mouthy one, only for him to get swatted over the head, making Militia's eyes widen when she saw under the helmet, above the kevlar turtleneck, was nothing, before he straightened up the helmet.

"Now then, we've embarrassed the good lady enough. Let's go, we're going to have work ahead of us refurbishing the armor and weapons we've stolen since we can't leave anything for DNA analysis." The stern one declared as they were leaving.

"How pissed do you think Train will be we got better armor for the Peepers?" The mouthy one commented as they left the room, leaving Militia and Flora to stew.

"Damn it. Fucked over by Merchants. The world's gone insane." Corporal Flora growled, the middle-aged man simmered in his seat and Militia sighed in defeat. The Merchants had outmaneuvered them entirely, and with Uber and Leet as allies, have likely also humiliated the PRT and Protectorate as well in the public eye.

This was a unanimous security, logistics, and PR nightmare.

Militia was going to petition Director Piggot for reinforcements, clearly they were far too understaffed to compete with the Merchants and their rapidly growing competence. Maybe she'd even ask her old friend Mouse Protector to stop chasing Ravager and come to help out. Besides that, she'd read that the Slaughterhouse Nine was suspected to be in her general area. Call Hannah selfish, but she'd rather her friend be here than in the path of the Nine.

Hannah was broken from her musings and simmering alongside Corporal Flora a few hours later by a very roughed-up looking Armsmaster rushing into the currently defunct Console room. "Militia, are you alright?" Armsmaster nearly demanded as he moved to ripping the tape off of her none-too-gently, which was better considering tape's disposition to being worse going slow.

"I'm fine, how are you and the others?" Militia asked through hissing as Armsmaster finished her tape and promptly broke the handcuffs off of her with the strength of his power armor alone by pinching the rivets off.

"We're not doing well. My primary and secondary halberds are destroyed, my armor is heavily damaged. Assault got knocked into the bay, and he's recovering from hypothermia. Battery was knocked unconscious, and the EMTs report she's pregnant." That got Militia to balk, and Armsmaster nodded, Battery was officially off the team for maternity leave since she likely didn't know she was pregnant herself yet if she hadn't told anyone. "As for Velocity, he couldn't harm or disrupt Trainwreck at all so he's fine from avoiding unnecessary harm. Only Dauntless and Triumph had any edge on him, and even then he kept pulling new tricks out of nowhere. We're going to have to rework Trainwreck's threat assessment extensively."

"Well then...I'm going to be making some calls." Militia stated as she moved past Armsmaster who began muttering about the damage to the console as he began freeing Flora. She was definitely calling Mouse Protector.

Hannah sighed as she returned to the office she'd been in at the start of today's mess, and dropped into her seat tiredly. She really wished she could sleep sometimes. It was with this burnt-out mindset that Hannah went back to her paperwork for a few minutes, before sighing and taking out her personal phone since her PRT one was likely locked down for MS Protocol that was probably unneeded by now.

She dialed the number from memory, perk of having absolutely eidetic recall. It only rang twice. "Hannah~! You never call the great and beautiful Mouse Protector! How've you been?" Hannah felt even more tired, yet couldn't help her grin at hearing her old friend's voice.

"Hey Kat. I'm in a bad place right now." Then, suddenly, Mouse Protector, or Katherine, popped up next to the mouse-shaped paperweight she kept because it was Kat's present to her, and Hannah couldn't help the blush as her equally shapely friend glomped her in a full-body hug with both arms and legs in the chair.

"Aw~ don't worry Missy! I'll always be here for you." Kat tenderly said to Hannah barely inches from her bandana-covered face, and Hannah of course couldn't avoid remembering that one year in their teens they...experimented.

"Oh god...why did I think this was a good idea?" Hannah asked as her old friend beamed at her from under her grey mouse-themed tinker helmet Chevalier made for her.

"Because the encouraging and loyal Mouse Protector gives best hugs!" Kat gushed as she squeezed into Hannah, making Hannah shudder. "Best. Hugs." She whispered huskily into Hannah's ear, and she remembered why she distanced herself from her bisexual best friend.

"Stop making me question my sexuality damn you!" Hannah demanded, getting Kat to squeal in victory as she was shoved off of the flustered heroine, who then decided to go back to her paperwork as her best friend kept chatting at her. Hannah didn't stay mad for long though, Kat was too good at making people smile.

It would also be nice for Mouse Protector to raise morale. One of the longest lasting independants in the country she may be, but the PRT could definitely use the charisma of the cheesy woman in the villain-flooded city of Brockton Bay.


	23. Chapter 17

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Reaction 2.8**_

[Sunday, November 7, 2010]

Yesterday was quite the string of events. I had to admit that I was quite overwhelmed with the amount of work the chain of disasters had brought upon me. Shortly after I had skinned Kat and accepted Trainwreck's apology, I had immediately had to find someone to help me organize a purchase manifest for kevlar fibers from Uber and Leet, since I didn't have any of my personal aides at hand thanks to all that was going on.

With that in the works, I immediately got to preparing the mutagen for today, which while simple on paper was rather tedious and time consuming. I also made sure to call mother as I made habit of while away from home in the evenings and mornings. She did not appreciate me being out and about so often, but work waits for no one.

That said, I spent most of last night measuring, mixing, and then deciding on the container for the mutagen, since it had to be drank. I ended up visiting Mush to check out his can collection, and he kindly gave me some intact energy drink canisters that had their own caps and everything. His hobby was strange as of late, finding and preserving at least one version of different label-prints of all sorts of beverage cans, but it was better than all the filth he used to hoard, which he'd donated to Leet for the limit-pushing tinker for some reason.

After getting a few of the Balcoat reinforced cans and washing them, I then used Clear Coat to make them mostly see-through save the top and bottom, then I labeled them with permanent marker once the coating had dried. Primal. It was a fitting name, and Kat was going to test it, eagerly even. I hope it does not disappoint. Most of the can, about two thirds, would be Nutrigel. A small one ounce of the pure Primal would be added, then the rest of the space with flavor filler. I chose cherry flavored powdered drink mix and purified water, then mixed the can thoroughly before refrigerating it and two other finished cans of my most dangerous concoction yet since the Nutrigel would also act as an insulator with the can sealed, so it wasn't too temperature sensitive.

That was all yesterday though, today was the big day. But first, I decided to address something.

"My hair?" Kat asked in surprise, rubbing her bald scalp hopefully as she held her bathrobe shut. She'd apparently decided not to get dressed since we both had no idea how the Primal would change her body.

"Yes, I'm putting together a quick liquid hair-growth solution that would cause the hair follicles to rapidly convert excess keratin in the body into hair. It should also be washable so the effect doesn't persist past what is desired." Needless to say it would also be an excellent prank utility. The market for such a thing was surprisingly massive so I was hoping not only would it get Kat's hair back, if possibly temporarily, but would also provide the Merchants with another cheap and valuable product to sell.

It was a bit difficult, moving away from drugs, but the crew had managed it, and we even had a rotation of stalls on Lord Street we managed to run quite well since the products were legal and safe and followed the market rules. We were not making as much money so far, but we were hardly hurting from all the caches we'd raided from the ABB and were going to continue raiding now that they were basically crippled.

"That's awesome! I might not have hair soon, so let's test it on me!" Kat gushed, before blushing. "Uh...would it work...anywhere?"

"I would assume so?" Why was she flushed? Was she sick?

"Better be careful then. I don't want hair on the back of my hands or something." Kat joked, and I offered her the dropper bottle I'd put the hair growth formula in. No name for it, I'll let the market girls figure that out. Kat used the applicator to drop it on her bare scalp, and the other hand to rub it around. "Whoa, it tingles. Not like an itch, but it doesn't sting. Hard to describe." The sudden near-explosion of dark hair from her head was entirely unexpected, and if my former sense of humor was an indicator, would've been hilarious. "HOLY SHIT!"

"Hm...that's rather potent." I commented as I wrote down notes as Kat ran to the sink and dunked her rapidly growing mane under the running water with some soap. "Should stop once diluted. I'll have to at least cut the formula in half with water or some other filler if it's that strong."

"Deal! This would be epic to prank people with!" Kat declared as she removed her soaked and still soapy hair from the sink. It had already gotten down to the back of her shoulder blades before she washed it out.

"Or, like just now, restore lost head hair. Would you mind tying that robe? I wanted to use this to also restore Howard's lost hair." Reminding my assistant of her companion's current condition seemed to bring her back down from her glee.

"Oh, right. Yeah...how's he doing?" Kat asked with concern as I quickly removed half the bottle of hair growth agent into a jar and filled it half with water before shaking it.

"He lost half of the portion of his brain that controlled subconscious motor functions like movement, proprioception, as well as bladder control in a fiery explosion. He may have regenerated it, but brains are complicated." Howard currently had no more motor control than a toddler, and couldn't form words properly right now. He was as close to a vegetable as could be without being one at the moment, but with some physical therapy and his modifications, he might be back on his feet within two weeks.

"Shit, how's Rahj taking it?" Kat asked as she tied her plain white robe shut, and she followed me through the Fishery towards what was designated as the clinic. We actually had former med students and nurses here. The destitute are composed of all walks of life I suppose.

"Since he and the others were rescued by Trainwreck and Squealer's Yacht, he hasn't left Howard's bedside." Those two were very close. I think it goes beyond their membership in the gang, but it was their story to tell, I wouldn't pry otherwise.

"Damn, hope he gets better." Kat muttered as we passed the armorer station Trainwreck had set up, which was dying and painting the stolen PRT armor for the Peepers with olive drab over the PRT's grim pitch black.

"He will, it will just take some time, at least two weeks I estimate." I stated assuredly. We entered the clinic to see a few injured lowbies without Stim all being diagnosed or treated for surface injuries. There were also a few of the pregnant women here getting examined. One of them looked about to give birth already, and she was practically beaming with pride and squeezing a muscular man's hands, said man was also beaming. I heard her squeal as we passed and heard something along the lines of triplets, which would explain her size despite the timetable I assumed for their situation.

We've also had a few amputation victims from industrial accidents who had to be fed nutrients in an IV and constantly monitored since growing back a whole arm or leg was beyond taxing on them, as well as somewhat disturbing since the flesh grew back first, and everything else had to grow in underneath. Those injuries took whole days of constant sleep and being fed intravenously. Hopefully Nutrigel would make the recovery smoother.

"Deal, Kat." Rahj stated as we entered the portion of the clinic for said long-duration stays. He wasn't looking very good, in spite of his Surge-granted health. The dark patches under his eyes told he likely had not slept at all last night. "Good to see you visiting."

"Sorry we didn't come sooner. I had to skin Kat to get the glass off and out of her." Rahj cringed at the description and Kat shuddered. "After that, I was busy with the next stage of things, as well as making sure the next stage of Balcoat is genuinely fireproof. Lung caged or not, it's a glaring weakness in the current formula."

"Except where those crazy guys at the forge are making flaming swords and stuff." Rahj snorted, making me tilt my head. I didn't consider that. "But yeah, I can see you wanting to get that taken care of right away. Howard's not going anywhere for awhile…."

"Deal says he'll recover. At least two weeks." Kat repeated my words to her, and Rahj sighed in visible relief. "Dude, you should go get some sleep."

"No. Not yet. Besides, today isn't all about Howard either." Rahj said pointedly at my assistant, and the way she shifted nervously told me she spoke with Rahj more often than I assumed. Considering they have all day out of the school week before I get out of Winslow to socialize, I shouldn't be surprised, not that I am. I wish I wasn't emotionally hamstrung. "I wanna see this before I get any peace of mind for sleep."

"Alright. We're doing this in Kat's room. She'll need a bed and I think, knowing her, she'll want some degree of privacy." I say this because despite her overly flirtatious and confident personality, Kat was a runaway from her past. Any chance she had to distance the person she was about to become from who she used to be would probably be appreciated.

"Thank you." Kat whispered, and with that, I led them back to my lab, grabbed the Primal meant for her, and then we went to her and Squealer's room, only to retreat immediately at hearing Sherrel Squeal through the newer door and noticing the panties on the doorknob. "Uh...I may have...a...suitable place?" Kat nervously suggested, fidgeting. "It's a little hovel I used to hide in, back when I...yeah." Kat was obviously uncomfortable with the idea, so I turned to Rahj who shrugged.

"This is my home, I've got nowhere else." So that source of suggestions was out.

Nothing for it then.

"My house it is then. My mom should be at her support group until this afternoon, and I have a basement." I'd rather not bring my work home with me, but if I was ever going to work around my powers and get into a relationship with Kat, then she was going to have to meet my mother eventually.

"If we're not in any hurry I can get us there, just don't expect me to do any fancy driving." Rahj yawned, and we went over to the control desk to sign out a van. Ever since yesterday, most of the fleet was occupied with transport between here and the trainyard, so we were left with one of the older units meant for either emergencies or casual use, like this. It was practically bare, only having the front seats, and as an older rig, was much more spacious, even having an extra axle. "Whoa, haven't driven one of these clunkers in a while. Squealer's already used most of them as hanger queens."

"Talk about a hauler." Kat commented as she climbed into the spacious vehicle, sprawling out in the empty space as I buckled into the passenger seat. "This is nice, maybe a whole foot or more of extra space all over compared to the others."

"Well, we need a new designated rig. I'll put a request in to Squealer to claim this one if she doesn't mind us using an older design." I declared, already putting down a note in my personal portable notepad. It was nearly full already.

"So Kat, did you have Dealer check out what you're gonna turn into?" Rahj asked as he drove us out of the Fishery and turned through the backstreets towards my home.

"Nope. I want it to be a surprise. I turn into a dog? Cool. I turn into a snake? I lose my hair maybe, but whatever. So long as I still have hands and can talk, I'm good." Kat casually replied, and other conversation was dropped. We didn't have much to talk about it seemed.

"We're here. Mind if I just park on your yard?" Rahj asked, and I shrugged. It was patches of dirt and hardy overgrown grass, nothing we cared about and people had ruined lawns from gang activity all the time, people would just scoff at the tire-pressed grass and go on with their lives. Once Rahj had backed over the curb and up on the lawn with the rear doors facing towards my front door, we made sure the coast was clear before we all quickly got out and rushed into my house.

"Basement's this way." I declared as I led them through the living room and to the basement stairs, turning on the dim light and descending. "Okay Kat, I have an old mattress down here you can use for your transformation." It was as literal a use for the word as I believe a human might get without being a parahuman.

"Okay, no chains or anything in case I go feral?" Kat asked worriedly. We'd talked about this while working, and figured anything up to losing her humanity entirely could happen. She was still willing to go for it, but was concerned for the safety of others more than herself.

"We've gone over this, you might just break out of them or they could interfere with your change." I took out the can of Primal, having kept it insulated in my coat pocket with the steel quarrels for my slingbow helping conduct the cold. "Here is the Primal. Shake it, and chug. The whole thing, don't stop. You might die if you don't get as much Nutrigel in you as possible."

Kat took the can of life-changing mutagen, and braced herself. "Well...goodbye Kathleen Fields." Kat said with some odd relief, shook the can, popped the top, and chugged. She had obvious difficulty, as even thinned with watery drink it was slightly thicker than a protein shake. She actually sucked at the mouth of the can to drink it faster, and had to gasp for air through her nose. Shortly however, the whole can was empty, and she panted before capping the can and tossing it to Rahj. "Oof...that's filling. How fast is it supposed to work?"

"No clue Kat, that's why you're testing it." I reminded my assistant, who always forgot she was the initial test subject despite having been at this for weeks by now. "How are you feeling?" I asked as I took out my notepad and pen.

"Like I have a rock in my gut and-whoa~..." Kat staggered and fell back onto the mattress. "Oh~ I don't feel so good…." Kat rubbed her face and groaned before hissing and growling. "It hurts. Oh god. My gut." Kat cradled her abdomen and curled up. "Oh shit...this is worse than being covered in melted glass." Kat whimpered, and Rahj edged closer with concern, but I pulled him back with a shake of my head.

"Do not interact with her. She needs to ride through it. I highly doubt she'll die, but she's doing this so any future consumers of Primal know what to expect." I then went back to documenting, writing down the instant abdominal pain. "Anything else you feel Kat? Is it just abdominal pain?"

"Ah...ah…." Kat weakly moaned, before her eyes rolled back and she began violently convulsing, screaming as she began rapidly mutating before our eyes. Kat's dark skin was rapidly hidden under a coat of shiny black fur, her face began to visibly protrude slightly into a more bestial shape as her ears migrated to the top of her skull.

"Holy fuck! Are you sure she's not about to die?!" Rahj panicked as I calmly observed as always, taking notes on how quickly she began changing and how fast the changes overall were taking place.

"Quite sure. Stim won't let her die, especially with it helping the change along. I'd bet if someone without Stim took this, they might die or it would take several weeks for the changes to finish." I informed my lieutenant as I noted Kat's fingers had sprouted claws, and a long tail began growing out from under my thrashing and raging assistant.

That said, she had already torn her bathrobe to ribbons and was gouging the old mattress with her powerful and violent motions. What she was turning into was becoming obvious as both her fingers and toes had become home to vicious claws, and her feet were becoming more paw-like, but aside from there the mutation wasn't effecting her skeletal structure besides her new tail and the reshaping of her skull and teeth, as provided by her having spat out her old human teeth and new carnivorous ones taking their places.

Finally, after several straight minutes of Kathleen Fields' voice going from an agonized human to a suffering large feline, she slowed her fit to a mere panting as she clenched her new feline face, before opening her eyes to reveal the catty golden ones that had replaced her human eyes. "That was fucking terrible! You should've tranqed me or something!" Demanded the new felinoid, who bolted to her new paws so quickly she stumbled, sending her now fur-covered bosom quaking. "Whoa~! What the hell?" Kat suddenly jumped across the basement to a wall, bounced off, and was suddenly hugging me faster than I could react. "TITS! I'm so fast! I can see clear as day down in this dingy place. I can...sense where things are!"

"You are clearly a Panther, which isn't a real creature, just a title for a big black cat. Considering what I examined of your DNA, you're likely an african leopard with a dominant trait for melatonin." I could barely make out, with this close proximity, that Kat's fur had the tell-tale spot patterns of a leopard, just hard to notice with the different shades of black mingling together.

"Well...we have a catgirl in the crew now. All my fantasies have been fulfilled. I'm gonna go crash and think about if I'm gonna take that stuff. I'll be hogging the couch." Rahj dismissed the situation as I was still being clutched to the amorous panther woman's chest as a rumbling purr vibrated from her.

"Oh~ that's new! I vibrate~!" I tried not to think about what lecherous connotations she was placing that statement on, we still had work to do.

"Kat, release me. We need to document all the advantages this new form has granted you." I tried to push her off, but her new body, likely extra enhanced, was able to easily restrain me with her greater strength and even hooked her claws into me as she cranked her purring up even more.

"No. This kitty is tired of being led around by the nose. You, are going to give this kitty her cream." Kat panted, and I realized I was alone, with an amorous and lecherous amazonian panther woman. "Call me Pantera~..." The newly dubbed Pantera huskily demanded of me, and had I any libido, I would have gladly done so. However, I do not care to be raped right now, and we had to document her changes.

"Pantera, release me this instant." I demanded, kicking at her leg, only getting her to chuff in my face with annoyance.

"No. You're mine Dealer. I'm going to-."

"DROP MY SON RIGHT NOW YOU HUSSY!" I heard the cocking of a shotgun, and Pantera dropped me and raised her hands with her ears tucked back and her tail straight back as my mother, now just about six feet tall and looking much younger with some blond returning to her greying hair, was aiming her gun at my assistant. "My son is not losing his virginity until he's at LEAST twenty-five!"

"Uh...hey Mrs. Ruebs! Uh...I'm Dealer's assistant, Pantera! N-nice to meet you?" Pantera feebly attempted to recover from having been caught trying to rape me and being caught by my mother, looking desperately at me for help, which she was not getting.

"Thanks mom, I keep explaining she needs to wait at least until I'm sixteen." I stated, and my mother sighed as she shook her head and looked up the stairwell.

"Danny! Come down here, I have some explaining to do." At Marian Ruebs' words, down the stairs came the stern but calm Daniel Hebert, and I just realized my mother had outed me to someone we both trusted, at least tangentially. This was why I didn't want to bring work home.


	24. Chapter 18

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Reaction 2.9**_

[Sunday, November 7, 2010]

I was no longer Dealer right now, dressed in just my comfy basketball shorts and one of my many green Saint Patrick's Day shirts while sitting on my couch. Kat was now wearing similar, needing to get dressed and still looking rather nervous in her seat next to me with my mom sitting on the loveseat opposite us with Mr. Hebert next to her. Rahj was asleep in my room since we needed the living room.

"Now that we're all suitably dressed and changed. I would like to begin with saying I'm both disappointed, yet impressed." Mr. Hebert stated, getting my mom to flinch, which Daniel Hebert noticed and put his right hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry Marian, I don't hold it against you. If I were in your situation, I think I would have done the same things."

"It doesn't change that I was cheating to get over my problems, and also couldn't control my behavior." Marian blushed as she looked away from her boss in shame, and Mr. Hebert sighed as he pat her back.

"Marian, we Union look after our own. If you explained things sooner, things at work wouldn't have gotten so awkward." Mr. Hebert looked fairly amused as he grinned awkwardly at my mom, who smiled softly back. I didn't get why Pantera suddenly started purring slightly and clutched her hands together, or why mom suddenly glared heatedly at my assistant, who resumed her nervous demeanor, pulling my tent of a Beer+Beer=Shenanigans shirt down a bit to futilely attempt to cover her bare abs again, which were even more obvious because of her short shiny fur outlining everything.

"You're surprisingly calm and fair about this so far." Pantera, as she demanded her old name never be spoken again, commented as she tried not to fidget more than she was already.

"Oh, I'm rather upset. But I didn't get where I am in the Union by letting my emotions control me." Mr. Hebert then clenched the arm of the loveseat so hard with his left hand so hard the fabric and wood creaked. Unaltered and perfectly normal, Mr. Hebert was an unimpressive specimen of a man, but even I knew about his legendary fury when his anger boiled over, which was hard to do. "After all, one of my daughter's closest friends turns out to be Dealer, the Merchant Cape who turned the gang from a bunch of worthless druggies into a steamrolling vigilante force."

"I didn't have much choice sir. Did mom explain the situation?" Mr. Hebert nodded and gestured me to continue. "Then you know I was already press-ganged into their service, and I Triggered from the collateral damage of an altercation with the ABB. I was injured, nearly about to catch pneumonia or some other lethal condition and the Merchants were closer than home."

"I don't begrudge you that Andrew. What I do begrudge is you using your creation on my daughter." Here was where Mr. Hebert instantly changed from Union Representative, to Concerned Father, and the transition was enough to make Pantera and mom cringe. "After Marian explained how Surge works when I grilled her on her changes, I realized Taylor's sudden growth spurt was suspiciously around the same time the Merchants began circulating it in the gang."

"I will not deny my actions. Just know it was out of concern for Taylor's health and well-being." My statement caught Mr. Hebert on the back foot if his sudden change from building rage to shock was any indication.

"What do you mean? I know she'd gotten a little pot-belly from not exercising, but she seems just fine." What Mr. Hebert likely meant by that was Surge dealt with Taylor's little belly, but as a father he wasn't about to talk about his daughter's body in much detail.

"She hasn't told you then?" I didn't want to tell Taylor's father about her situation if she was leaving him out of it, but the current scenario might well have forced my hand.

"Told me what?!" Mr. Hebert snapped, only to simmer down when my mom squeezed his right hand with both of hers.

"That she's been a victim of total systematic bullying to the point of becoming a pariah?" I believe that was a 'bomb' because everyone went silent. "So she must have been keeping you in the dark then. I'll elaborate. Emma Barnes has betrayed Taylor, thrown her to the wolves by becoming one of them. The track star Sophia Hess and their patsy Madison Clements have been her chief conspirators in tormenting Taylor since we began going to Winslow."

"W-what? No...but Taylor and Emma are...were, like sisters…." Mr. Hebert weakly defended as he started muttering to himself, looking at the floor. I took the lull to go get cola for us, and by the time I'd returned, Mr. Hebert looked mercurial again, but from Pantera and mom's sympathetic expressions, it wasn't aimed at me. "So you've been giving them hell?"

"Yes. If the system is corrupt, it's time to go outside the system. It's only logical. When a set of boundaries set up to protect you utterly fails, and perpetuates your suffering, it is time to find a new system." I handed Mr. Hebert a cola, which he thanked me for and took a sip of. "It is my reasoning at least, and is why I've pushed the Merchants into their new direction."

"So you're the new boss then?" Mr. Hebert assumed, and Pantera chuffed in amusement, drawing our attention to her as I sat down next to her again.

"Pfft, no! He's nobody's boss but mine and his lieutenants. He just gave the crew the initiative with his creations." Pantera opened her cola, and put it to her feline lips, chugging quickly until it was gone, she then proceeded to belch loud enough you could mistake her for a roaring lion. "Woo! Man that tastes good! I thought this new sandpaper tongue would make things taste weird."

"Oh god, my son's girlfriend is a brute…." Mom bemoaned, getting a 'hey' of insult out of Pantera while Mr. Hebert patted my mom's back consolingly. I get Pantera is rather brusque, but it's part of her charm as my brief period of emotions yesterday informed me.

"Regardless of Pantera's lack of manners, she's right, I am just another cog in the machine. The Merchants already hated what they had become, it just took getting them off their addictions to turn things around. That said, we've been trying to contact the DWU to see if we couldn't provide any services." I figured now was a good time to try and talk business, get Mr. Hebert away from thoughts of his daughter. Considering how Mr. Hebert's face changed to one of consideration, I had another thing to thank my self-help books for.

"Well, what kind of services? We don't exactly need mercenaries, not since you lot were the ones originally causing the most trouble, and you've also cleared out the ABB more or less." Mr. Hebert asked quite eloquently.

"Well, we're Merchants. We still sell goods, but not drugs. Well, if you don't count things like this I mean." I went over to my discarded costume, which I had intently deposited on the arm of the couch, and fished out the dropper of hair growth formula I had forgotten to use on Howard. "It's a hair growth formula. Pantera had lost all her hair in a rather violent altercation with Lung yesterday-."

"WHAT?! You fought LUNG yesterday?! Why didn't you say anything?!" Mom demanded of me, and I belatedly realized that mentioning this in front of her after I'd carefully edited that out of my evening and morning reports to her was not a good idea. I blame having forgotten to take notes on what to tell her and not to tell her.

"Because your reaction right here is exactly why." I calmly responded, and looked back to Mr. Hebert who was looking fairly gobsmacked while my mother fumed. "Yes, that aside however. As you can tell, she has quite the mane of hair on her now." I gestured to Pantera who grandly flipped her hair with a catty grin. "This formula is very powerful, and what I have on me is basically cut in half. She grew that hair in less than a minute with the undiluted formula."

"You're kidding." Mr. Hebert looked at it skeptically, so I tossed the bottle to him, which he fumbled with and held away as if it were a bomb. "Whoa there! Why did you toss it to me?"

"Give it a try, just be ready to run to a sink or something to wash it out, it stops when diluted with enough water and soap." Pantera caught on, and gestured for him to try it. "I'm the tester, I guarantee it's safe." Pantera declared with a thumbs-up along with her cheshire grin, getting Mr. Hebert to snort in wry amusement.

"Well, that's as good an endorsement as I need." Mr. Hebert snarked with a raised eyebrow before he opened the bottle and moved the dropper to his head, which was balding, and squirted the dropper onto his scalp, rubbing it in as he put the dropper back into the bottle which my mother took off his hands. "Hm, it's tingly. Is it supposed to-." Again, I underestimated the strength of the formula, as Mr. Hebert's short and sparse hair suddenly exploded into a rapidly growing mane of slightly greying black hair. "I HAVE HAIR!" Mr. Hebert screamed in joy as he jumped to his feet and ran to the restroom. "DAN THE MAN IS BACK!" Echoed down the hall from the bathroom shortly before the shower turned on.

This got my mom and Pantera to explode in laughter. While the ladies got their amusement at Mr. Hebert's expense, I fished out my notepad to note that even cut in half, the formula is excessively potent, I'll try to cut it down to a quarter of the original. After writing down the note for the next attempt at diluting the formula, Mr. Hebert returned, his dress shirt and tie soaked as he toweled his inexplicably long hair with a grin. "So, what is your consideration for doing business?" I asked, getting a shrug out of the more at-ease man.

"We're a union son, not a retail store." Mr. Hebert replied with humor as he sat back down next to my mother. "I'm afraid we can only buy things from your people, or spread word that your products are safe and reliable. Sadly for the former, the DWU hasn't been doing well the past years, so we don't exactly have the money to buy things such as your reinforced work clothing or Surge if you're willing to sell that publically." Mr. Hebert honestly informed me, and I nodded, having expected that.

"I am aware of that, what I am pertaining to, is helping the DWU obtain more work." I was expecting Mr. Hebert's surprise at this, but I had been working out how to speak to him or someone else in the offices at the DWU for weeks now. "You know for fact Squealer uses junk from the scrapyard, trainyard, and boat graveyard for her rigs, correct?"

"Yes? Where are you going with this? We can't exactly legally help provide the Merchants with services, paying or not." Mr. Hebert cautiously led in, as I hoped he would rather than outright reject my proposals.

"That's just it, you won't be providing us with anything. If anything, you would be robbing us of resources." This got everyone confused, including Pantera. What nobody here but I was aware of was that between all the parahumans in the crew, tangentially including Uber and Leet, we had Four competent Tinkers all pooling our work. I'd been absorbed in my own work, so I'd mostly contributed just what I'd already made, but I haven't been missing the memos I've been receiving, or sending.

"I don't follow. How would this help you?" Mr. Hebert asked curiously, as I fished through my coat for a summary of the memos I kept on me that was easy enough to destroy, but I kept just for the case I was in a situation to help. It was very crinkled and looked filthy from the dust and other debris from yesterday, but was legible, so I handed it to Mr. Hebert

"Because it would help everyone. Not just the Merchants." I sat back as Mr. Hebert read through the summarized transcript of the past several days of memos between Leet, Squealer, Trainwreck, and I. As he continued reading, his eyes widened, and he brushed back his new hair worriedly.

"You just put proof of how dangerous the Merchants are in my hands, and let me read it. Are you sure you trust me this much?" Mr. Hebert asked shakily, folding the dirty paper back into the square it was originally in.

"Mr. Hebert. You were there for my family when the worst happened. You helped my mother get a job, even with the hardships the DWU were already facing, and even helped her with her addiction. You are one of the few people in this city I would trust my life to outside of the Merchants." My statement clearly had an effect, making Mr. Hebert look both shocked and touched.

"That...means a lot Andrew. Especially from the only person Taylor even talks about these days." Mr. Hebert smiled softly, while Pantera suddenly growled lightly, looking irritated, but wrangled herself quickly. What was that about? "That aside, how would the DWU get the contract for that sort of work?"

"Let's just say, that a certain influential hero will be getting an anonymous data packet containing things that will create a lot of work in the near future. That is; if Leet and Squealer have managed to arrange things just right with Uber helping." Seriously, why isn't Sherrel the leader yet? Why does she insist that Skidmark remain the leader? I don't understand that woman.

"Well then. I would've likely gone for any big projects if it meant getting my people work, but now that I know who might be responsible, I'll keep an eye on things, make sure everything stays above board. I don't understand how losing resources like this would help the Merchants though." Mr. Hebert gestured to the summary of memos. "I mean, aren't those a large resource for your people?"

"Not anymore. If things pan out, you'd understand why without me explaining, which I'll leave out for secrecy. That said, you swear not to out me? You have me in a corner, since I'm not willing to hurt you or anyone you know." I had figured he was on the fence since my mother had brought him into the fold, but all I gave him with that note was the broad plans we had, not exactly how we would go about it. If I had to drop out and maintain my knowledge with self-study I would if it meant I was outed and had to be a villain full-time.

"I'm not throwing my daughter's best friend under the bus." Mr. Hebert declared heatedly as he looked me in the eyes. "You're the best thing that's happened to my daughter in nearly two years Andrew. Whatever happens between you two, so long as it doesn't become bitter, I will not betray your trust. Possibly not even then so long as you don't mistreat Taylor." For some reason, Pantera hissed lightly, getting Mr. Hebert to look at her challengingly. What is going on here?

"I couldn't hide anything from Danny son. It's why I brought him home today after the therapy group to explain things. I wouldn't have brought him home if I didn't trust him." Mom reinforced, before glaring at my assistant. "And as for you. Keep your hands off my boy. I don't mind you two getting together or whatever, but he is not getting into a bed with Any girl until he's at Least 16. He's also not getting married until he's 25."

"Wow, and I thought Catholic families were strict." Pantera snarked with a roll of her eyes, crossing her arms as her tail twitched in irritation. "You know exactly what I'm going through, only I went in fast and hard, so I got hit even harder. Imagine that with a very viable boy around." My mother's blush and ashamed expression was rather telling, but that was irrelevant to the overall situation, so I turned back to Mr. Hebert.

"So. Now then, back to Taylor. I'm going to continue protecting her, whether she wants me to or not. But, do you believe it best to out myself to her?" I may be friends with her, but Taylor was always more introverted around anyone but Emma until Emma broke her at Winslow, worsening things. So I was hoping her father had better insight into her character than I did.

"Thank you for that. And yes. She's a smart girl, if just as stubborn as her mother. She'd figure it out eventually, and trust me Andrew, it's better to be honest with a girl than to lead her on." Mr. Hebert's words were sagely, as a few of my books said the same, so I nodded in agreement.

"Very well. I'll tell her tomorrow." Maybe with the help of some of the Rats to lend credence to my claim. "Well, if that's everything? Oh, right. I'm planning to offer the full spread of my services to Taylor at the time I inform her of my identity. Would that be alright?"

"Normally, no. But this is a special case." Mr. Hebert looked a mixture of concerned and angry. "You're her friend, you obviously care in spite of your lack of emotion. She's been much happier the past couple weeks, and couldn't stop telling me about you when I asked how her day had gone, since her cheer had attracted my attention." Mr. Hebert groused to himself. "That's when I first learned you'd become sociopathic, and later she voiced her concerns over your involvement with the Merchants. More for your safety than for your affiliation, and I agree even now."

"I was dealt a bad hand in life. I'm just playing it to the best I can." It was a common euphemism that I'd read regarding situations like mine, it seemed fitting to say.

"And you're playing it rather well. That said, if Taylor decides to use your substances, then I trust you won't abuse her, considering all the effort you're going through to protect her from abuse." Mr. Hebert extended his hand over the coffee table, and I reached out to take it. "I'm putting a lot of faith in you Andrew."

"I will do my best to ensure your faith is not misplaced Mr. Hebert." I didn't squeeze his hand too hard, but he was clearly putting all his own strength into the handshake, it barely bothered me.

"Call me Danny son." Mr. Hebert-Danny, said, and I nodded.

"Sure Danny. It's good we got to talk." Because now we have a valuable, trustworthy link to the DWU to help speed up this city's recovery. "I'm sure that if anything hits a snag that going through the proper channels won't fix in a properly timely manner regarding your people's work in the future?" I made sure to put a questioning inflection in my tone at the end, it was much harder than people would assume.

"I'll give you a call." Danny agreed to my wordless suggestion, and we released our grips. "Marian, you have a good boy on your hands."

"Don't I know it." Mom smiled softly, before getting up and squeezing Danny on the shoulder as she led him into the kitchen. "Now then, about work…." Their conversation droned out due to the shoddy acoustics of my home, as well as the ancient shag carpeting we never did get rid of.

"So...that's done, no way I'm getting back to the Fishery with Rahj dead asleep. Got a guestroom?" Pantera asked with glee and a catty grin. She knew quite well that this sort of house did not have a spare bedroom.

"No. I guess I'm getting the loveseat and you get the couch." At least the padded arms of the loveseat would make for a comfortable if slightly awkward sleeping position with my head and legs raised above my torso.

"Aw, but there's plenty of room for two on this thing~." Pantera grabbed me and pulled me into a full-body hug, purring loudly.

"NOT IN MY HOUSE YOU DON'T!" My mother screamed from the kitchen with a mercurial glare, Danny chuckling in amusement and Pantera chuffed in disappointment.

"Your mom is a total cuntblocker." Pantera growled as she released me from her admittedly comfortable embrace, and I moved over to the loveseat to get ready for sleep, it's been a long weekend. Mass relocations, dragons, skinning cats, making a cat. I'm definitely going to sleep early today. Hopefully school will be a reprieve from this madness for a few hours.


	25. Chapter 19

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Enzyme 3.1**_

[Monday, November 8, 2010]

I should have expected this. Unfortunately, I had not considered that the PRT and Protectorate would risk skirting the Unwritten Rules so closely like this. When I came to school today, I was whole unprepared for the announcement in homeroom that there was going to be an assembly replacing third period, with absolutely no answers to questions what it was regarding. This wasn't all that uncommon, so I thought nothing of it in the face of the fact that Hess was apparently back from Shadow Stalker's hospital stay, likely courtesy of Panacea.

What should have tipped me off was how distant Hess stayed from Taylor and myself. The reasons all came together when I followed the procession of students into the gymnasium, where upon arrival, myself, Taylor, and every single Rat was quite obviously singled out into a separate section of the stowaway wooden bleachers along with several other students who had an obvious growth spurt the past several weeks.

The PRT Troopers standing around the edge of the raised platform in the center of the gym was also a dead giveaway. "What do you think this is about?" Taylor asked me as she sat down next to me on the right. She'd obviously taken to the Surge well, she seemed slightly taller and healthier than last week. Around us, the Rats were all antsy, and having likely realized what was going on tried to arrange themselves in a way that wasn't conspicuous towards myself or Taylor towards the top of the bleachers, but still loosely surrounding us. It wasn't much of a secret among the Rats who I was, since I acted as the 'liaison' between them and Dealer.

"More than likely, this is a PR move. You, I and everyone else who has had an obvious growth spurt the past few weeks have all been put in this section of seats, away from the others." I quietly but obviously chatted to Taylor, trying to act as if I was just talking to my friend. "I'm thinking they're going to have either a Ward, Protectorate hero, or high-ranking PRT official give a speech about gang violence. Reporting gang activity, etcetera."

"What? But if they single you all out, they're really risking angering the Merchants." Taylor replied with concern. "I mean, they're obviously dangerous, but they care about the city and people. I don't think they'd take singling out students really well." Taylor hedged, avoiding directly stating anyone around us was a gang member since some of the others around us really weren't Merchants and she caught on quickly. "Great. I finally get boobs and I'm singled out for it." Taylor huffed in annoyance as she crossed her arms over her new B-cup bosom which was hard to notice since she still wore baggy hoodies and sweatshirts.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Your attention please." Came the voice of Principal Blackwell, drawing our attention to the stage to see the unpleasant woman at the microphone. "Today's assembly is regarding your safety. We are going to cover several important topics regarding gang activity, substance abuse, as well as what you should do if you suspect a student of illegal activity." Called it. "Today we have with us Lieutenant Pratchett of the Parahuman Response Team, as well as the Wards; Gallant, and Aegis."

At Blackwell's words, a PRT officer followed by the two mentioned Wards entered the gym and stepped up onto the stage. The tall brown-haired officer was in his middle ages, looking fit and more used to active duty than driving a desk. "Hello, I am Lieutenant Pratchett. Today as your principal informed you, I'm going to cover several tips on identifying suspicious behavior, staying safe, and avoiding dangerous substances."

"It's just the Heroes and PRT waving the flag. They should try actually doing something instead of a fucking pissing contest." Quietly grumbled a Rat on my left.

"Quiet." I whispered, and it got him to clam up, getting Taylor to look at me curiously as Pratchett went on, nobody hopefully noticing anything over the general spiel the PRT officer was spewing. Mostly about the dangers of gangs, how to stay away and safe from illegal activity, etc.

"-It's no big secret that Winslow is unfortunately a recruiting ground and target for the gangs of the city." That definitely got my attention. They were blatantly calling out the gang members among us, not just the Merchants, but the Empire as well as any remnants of the ABB. "That said, we of the PRT are for the foreseeable future, placing a trooper presence on campus with the administration's agreement, as well as with approval from the local school board of education."

This got an audible cascade of chatter from the student body. Those of us in our section, clearly separated out for suspicion of being Merchants, immediately emulated the rest of the students to try and remain inconspicuous. This was bad. We couldn't maintain our campaign against Hess, Barnes, and Clements with a constant PRT presence on Hess's side. Hopefully it went both ways, or protecting Taylor just got much harder. However, that didn't add up. PRT were the Parahuman Response Team. While the biggest gangs were led by capes, they were still mostly normal humans. Until a parahuman was on site, it was the BBPD's jurisdiction.

Thankfully, a student in a different section than us raised their hand, which the Lieutenant pointed out to speak. "Sir, why PRT? Isn't this out of your people's, uh...area?"

"The word you're looking for son is 'jurisdiction'. But for the most part, yes, you are correct. If the average Merchant wasn't considered to be as dangerous as a parahuman lately." This got everyone in the gym to clam up. Many in shock. As for our group, I could tell some of the Rats had a slight smug presence to them. One just in front of Taylor was even smirking a little, so I kicked her in the butt, getting her to jolt slightly and straighten out. Taylor was now looking at me suspiciously.

"Which is where we come in to explain." Aegis took over the microphone as the lieutenant stepped aside. "The average Merchant has displayed incredible degrees of strength and resilience. If you notice anyone performing an incredible feat of strength, report them to the nearest PRT trooper. Which also brings us more to the substance abuse topic. The Merchants have a new drug that has given them these abilities, called Surge."

You philistines, it's a health supplement, stop lying to the masses for your own benefit and do your jobs. Oh, there's some anger. I guess my power doesn't like my work being derided or mocked. "It's not really a drug though, it's actually a ridiculously advanced health supplement. Panacea stressed this Aegis." Gallant reminded in a far too rehearsed manner for it to be anything but planned, but I was thankful at least Panacea hadn't outright stabbed us in the back after helping her. "She even said she could replicate it, so it's organic too."

What? She can? I must get in contact with her.

"True, thank you Gallant. But regardless, Surge causes intense and rapid muscle development, overall body growth, as well as causing what is easily described as 'super puberty' as Clockblocker put it." The Wards continued on, but I could see the damage was done. Everyone else in the school. All of them. Were looking suspiciously at us now. There's no way we can possibly get away with anything at Winslow anymore. All it would take is anyone getting offended and pointing fingers at us. Or as the shit-eating grins on Taylor's primary tormentors could attest to, turn the system against us entirely.

They've just segregated us. I wonder what any lawyer worth their salt would say to this? "No...no…." Taylor whimpered next to me, and unexpectedly hugged me tightly. "Things were getting better. Now everything's going to get even worse." Taylor hiccuped, and I calmly assured that despite all the staring her sudden action wasn't out of place as the majority of our section including non-Merchants started voicing complaints of discrimination.

"Taylor. Calm down. I'll take care of it." The method to dealing with this sudden attack on the Rats was simple, yet not so simple.

"How can you Andrew?" Taylor asked in concern, only for the assembly to end shortly and I guided my friend through the halls towards the cafeteria quickly to avoid Hess and her cadre, who were likely being slowed down as much as possible by the Rats forming casual moving walls socializing on the way. "I mean, you may be part of the gang, but even if you have a leadership role among the members here, what could you even do against the PRT? Or the Trio for that matter now that they've got even more power?"

I quickly dove into a utility closet with Taylor yelping at the sudden action, but was unnoticed thanks to a few Rats covering us with their bodies before they moved on. I locked the door and turned on the light. "I'll cut to the chase Taylor. I am Dealer." I started, getting Taylor to gawk at me. "Yes. I'm a parahuman. Yes, I'm a quote 'villain' unquote. But even if I wasn't labeled one instantly, I don't want to be a hero, I just want to do better."

"W-what? Wait. So I didn't just have a natural growth spurt?" Taylor asked in a mixture of what I assumed was betrayal and frustration.

"No. That muffin you had on monday last week was made with Surge for the chocolate flavor. I did it because I wanted you to be healthy, and it would make you more resilient should Hess have managed to rough you up again. I'm afraid I don't have time to explain, not in this closet. We won't be able to shield you today Taylor, be safe, I'll meet you at your house after school to explain everything." I rapidly stated, because we really did not have much time with the school on constant alert.

"W-wait, Andrew-!" I bolted out the door, closing it behind me. As predicted, the hallway was empty, so I hurried to the cafeteria. Shortly, I saw Taylor enter and give both the Trio and myself a wide berth, but she looked sad rather than upset when she looked at me, and I just nodded at her before we went about our day.

[Pick Your Poison]

Following school, I went home and made sure to leave a note for mom regarding the events at school, and got out dad's old bike from the garage. It was rusty and stiff from disuse, but a quick spray of grease fixed that. The old thing was a single speed steel monster from an old era, but it would get me to Taylor's house quickly enough. Before I left though, I made sure to text Pantera and Sherrel my current plans.

As I expected, the ride, though rough on the old steel bike, was barely ten minutes and I ditched the bike in the overgrown yard before going up to the front steps. And shattering the bottom step the moment I stepped on it, causing me to tumble onto the porch of the house. I didn't even grumble about it because there was no point, I got up and examined the step I broke. Rotted through. I hope the rest of Taylor's house wasn't suffering as much rot. Maybe there's a bacteria I can make that can revive-.

"Oh, sorry about that. Forgot that old thing." Taylor said as she opened the door, probably drawn to the sound of the broken step and my still fat body impacting her porch. Well, I'm not exactly fat anymore but I still have a belly. "Well, no point worrying about it, you okay?" Taylor had switched out from her grey hoodie into a more casual T-shirt. Now that I can see her hair better too, it's obviously even longer.

"If you couldn't guess Taylor, it'll take more than a spill on a wood porch to hurt me now. May I come in?" I requested, because I did not know if Taylor was even amenable to seeing me right now.

"Uh...sure? Dad's not home though…." Taylor blushed, and I tilted my head to display false confusion. I did not understand, but I couldn't feel bewilderment. "Um. You're a boy. I'm a girl. We'd be alone in my house."

"I do not comprehend why that matters. I am still only invested in our relationship platonically Taylor." I reminded my friend, who looked frustrated for a moment before sighing.

"Fine. Come in." Taylor held open her door and I stepped over the broken step and entered her home. It was much nicer than even my house actually. Her home even had a second story. "We don't have any snacks, but feel free to make yourself at home."

"That isn't necessary. Taylor, I've already spoken with your dad." I informed her, making her suddenly look intensely worried. "My mother outed me to him, and he came over yesterday to talk with me. Of course, he suspected correctly that your growth spurt was brought on by my Surge, so he confronted me. It ended with him agreeing to let me continue attempting to protect you, and even offer my full services to you."

"What? You...you're just outright asking me if I want to become a balloon chested amazon?" Taylor asked me with her face and ears so red I would momentarily liken her head to a tomato.

"If that is the end result of you using Surge, then yes. It varies honestly, some grow a little taller, some don't develop in the same way, etc. It all depends on what your body says is your full genetic potential. That isn't all however, I am also offering everything at my disposal if you are interested." I explained again, but Taylor still looked embarrassed.

"Andrew this...isn't the sort of thing you say to a girl you're not interested in." Taylor stressed, and I was beyond grasping her intention at this point, so I shrugged, getting her to groan and collapse onto her couch. "Andrew. You don't ask a girl to...change, herself, unless she is interested in you romantically, or you're interested in her romantically, and are already in a relationship where you're making sacrifices for each other."

"Where did you come across this information?" I asked, and Taylor looked sheepish.

"Uh...I've been reading some romance novels lately." Taylor nervously admitted, and I blinked. "Yeah. What am I thinking? Getting interested in a boy who can't even return affection?"

"Oh. I apologize Taylor. If it means anything to you, I will still continue to support you even if not in a romantic sense." Taylor groaned and rubbed her face, what did I say?

"You are just saying all the wrong things for that Andrew! God! Just...get on with it please? Before I kick you out for confusing my emotions even more." Taylor demanded with fluster, and I nodded.

"Sorry. But regardless, Surge is just one of my creations. I also have things like Stim which would give you a regeneration factor, Balcoat to reinforce clothes or even weapons for you, and, should you decide to leave normal society forever I have Primal, which is a mutagen that turns the consumer into a human-animal hybrid. That's just the tip of the iceberg even." I pitched, getting Taylor to gawk at me.

"All that? And it's just the start? Holy crap Andrew. Do I have to join the Merchants or something though?" Taylor's question was a reasonable one.

"Only if you want to. I'm extending these services to you as a friend. You don't have to do anything to benefit from our association." I gave Taylor time to gather her thoughts, I could see she was shocked and processing my offer. While she was in thought I moved to sit on the couch seat furthest from her.

"So...you're offering me the...Option. Of turning myself, into an amazon, with tinker-fab clothes, or even some animal-human, all with regeneration?" Taylor summed up, and I nodded. "Geez Andrew. Offer to make me into a parahuman why don't you."

"That one's impossible." I commented with my dry tone, and Taylor giggled. Wait, did I just crack a joke somehow? I wasn't intending to that time.

"I beg to differ Andrew. Dang, you guys are basically a whole gang of parahumans compared to everyone else." Taylor hummed and twirled her hair in her fingers as she bit her lip. "So...all I have to do is ask? None of it's habit forming is it?"

"Surge is, but only if you binge on it. If you do go overboard, I have Addictol, something I made to negate the physical effects of addiction. You might just get free access to it however." I alluded, and Taylor blinked, I took that as my cue. "If the PRT thinks to segregate us by the effects of Surge. Well, I think Winslow has been rather lackluster in their physical education."

"Andrew? What are you planning?" Taylor leered at me in suspicion, but I was going to tell her anyway, as a heads-up.

"I haven't informed my compatriots yet, but we're going to drug Winslow's water with Surge. By the time anyone realizes what's going on, they're going to have teenagers shooting up like weeds." Taylor gawked at me once more. She does that a lot. I think it's habitual though what with her large expressive mouth, even if Surge had thickened her lips a bit.

"That is crazy! And brilliant!" I wasn't expecting Taylor to praise me, but the wide mischievous grin on her face was rather impressive. "Those bitches, I want to see Madison go from being the petite little bitch into a towering beanpole like me! Well, hopefully. Also, could it make Emma or Sophia's boobs so big they can't put their hands together?" Taylor beamed and cackled at the rather ridiculous concept. If someone ever genetically had breasts that enormous, I'd have to question the potency of their bovine genes.

"I doubt it. Regardless, doing this would do many things. Foremost, it would remove the ability to distinguish Merchants out of the crowd at school so long as they don't break any more laws and take pictures of minors on a school campus without permission from the parents. It would also tell everyone that the Merchants, while no longer strictly a villain gang, are still not above doing what is necessary to protect ourselves. Aside from that, we'll watch the fallout from ground zero." I explained, and Taylor giggled like...well, a schoolgirl, which she technically was if in high school.

"I am so eager to see this. But first, about your offer. What about that awesome hair tonic my dad used?" Taylor played with her long voluminous hair, and I blinked. "I love my hair. Everyone knows that. I want to find out what it's like having hair down to my butt." Taylor laughed and shook her head. "I mean, I love this already, hair down my shoulders. But I want to at least see what that's like."

"Well, it was just a little thing, so it slipped my mind. Of course that's available to you, again, without membership needed." I reminded, and Taylor jumped to her feet and rushed to the stairs. "Taylor?"

"I'm coming with you! I'm going to get warm clothes, I want to see what you guys do even if I'm not joining. My curiosity's aching." Taylor called from the stairs before she went up to I presumed her room.

Well then. I better call Squealer and Pantera, let them know to mask up since I'm bringing a friend over to...hang out? Am I about to hang out with Taylor outside of school for the first time in years? I don't know how it came to this, but I better keep Taylor nearby while at the Fishery so she doesn't get hurt.


	26. Chapter 20

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Enzyme 3.2**_

[Monday, November 8, 2010]

I believe this situation was what one might call awkward.

I was sitting on the driver's-side sideways bench that Squealer had installed last night in my new van. I was next to Pantera, who was wearing an extremely exposing tube top and low-cut jean-shorts. Pantera had an arm wrapped around me and was pressing my cheek into the side of her left breast. Taylor was leering angrily from her seat on the passenger-side sideways bench on the other side of the van at my assistant, who was purring with a catty grin of superiority.

"So. I'm guessing Primal made you into a cat girl." Taylor stated factually and stiffly as she clutched the bottom of her grey hoodie with white knuckles.

"Mm~ yes. But everything else you see was caused by Surge." Pantera thrust her chest out, and Taylor blushed with a snarl.

"Rahj. Context. What is the situation I currently find myself in?" I asked my lieutenant, who was looking somewhere between amused, and terrified from what I could see of his face in the mirror. Why was he scared?

"Not getting into that boss. Good luck." Rahj hurriedly replied as he focused back on his driving. Good luck with what?

"He doesn't even understand what's going on. Just let him go." Taylor demanded of Pantera, who chuffed and growled with bared teeth.

"Oh, that may be, but he's still too good a guy to give up on. I'm gonna be keeping him." Pantera hugged me a little tighter and nuzzled the top of my head. Taylor visibly grit her teeth and pointed at Pantera.

"Alright then. I guess since he's not able to, I'll just have to protect him from you as his friend." Taylor challenged, and they both glared at each other, growling. What is happening?

"No fighting in my van! If you start something, I'm kicking you out!" Rahj shouted with sudden resolve, and the two girls quickly returned to a simmer.

"Regardless of whatever is going on here. Pantera, release me. You're hurting my neck." After Pantera whined and let go of me with hesitation, I cracked my neck and looked between them. "Taylor, meet my assistant; Pantera. Pantera, this is my old friend Taylor. We go back a few years." For some reason, Taylor looked smug about that while Pantera pouted. "As for Pantera, she's been my test subject for all of my ingested substances."

"So I'm the first, and the best!" Pantera declared, only for Taylor to snort.

"Please, you're the prototype. Someone better will come along later." Taylor sniped, and Pantera snarled. "That said, I'm interested Andrew. Has anyone besides this mangy cat taken Primal yet? There hasn't been any news about them."

"Pantera's brand new as of yesterday. I was going to be taking applicants for appraisal this evening. Have you been advertising to the crew Pan?" I shortened her name again as I pulled out my duffel bag from under the bench and unzipped it, starting to pull out the pieces of my Dealer persona.

"Pan? I'm not cookware Andrew. Cute nickname though." Pantera purred as she twirled her hair in her claws while I pulled out the invisible bodysuit, which was awkward with the ceiling blacklight off. "As to your question, yes. I've been boasting about Primal all day, even let them know it was really painful, and it still seems to have people interested."

"Uh...Andrew? W-what're you doing?!" Taylor demanded with a squeak to her voice, and I looked over at her brightly flushed face. I had just taken off my shirt, revealing my muscular chest and arms, as well as my small belly. I still had more work to do on that.

"Changing. I need to strip down to put on my bodysuit." I stood up and kicked off my boots, before undoing my pants, which were held on these days by a belt. For some reason, when I shucked my pants and underwear off, Pantera whooped while Taylor squeaked even louder. I didn't get what they were fussing over as I turned on the overhead blacklight, and pulled the now-visible bodysuit up my legs. Now that I think about it, my legs have lost all their fat and become quite muscular as well. I hardly notice thanks to my baggy clothes.

"Whoa dude. Did you just get naked with two interested babes watching, just to change clothes?" Rahj asked with a whistle at the end. "Talk about a cunttease. Don't be a jerk kid."

"What are you going on about Rahj?" I asked as I turned off the blacklight, and finished pulling the bodysuit on over my head. When I turned to look at the girls, Pantera was purring and looking rather pleased with longing eyes, while Taylor looked a mixture of mortified and embarrassed along with intrigued. "I'm going to be placing the rest of my costume on Taylor. So if you see floating clothes, it's me."

"THAT'S what you're concerned about?! Andrew, you just. Just. UGH! Okay, I definitely need to keep an eye on you. You pull that anywhere public and you'd be arrested." Taylor growled, no longer embarrassed but still flushed.

"Oh please. You just don't want to miss the show." Pantera teased Taylor as she shamelessly groped her huge right breast. "Mm~ I'm going to have good fap material tonight."

"TMI. But what is that Andrew? You didn't mention any invisible clothing." Taylor changed the subject, but she was clearly still a bit pink in the cheeks.

"I didn't forget to mention it. I just left it out. Clear Coat is one of our more guarded secrets. The less people find out about us being able to snoop around in broad daylight out of our vans without being seen, the easier it will be to keep the element of surprise. So just in case someone was snooping around your house I kept quiet out of habit." I finished shrugging on my coat, and then put my mask on, dropping the veil of the hood over the top of the beak. "Refer to me as Dealer so long as I am dressed as such."

"Better catch on quick Miss Hebert, we're pulling into the HQ." Rahj warned before we indeed drove through the ajar bay doors and became visible once we had entered. I watched as Taylor rubbernecked in awe at the sight of all the vans parked in the motor pool and all the Merchants going about their various tasks.

"Try not to get trampled by any spartans or amazons." Pantera snarked at Taylor as we parked, and quickly exited out of the back. "Hey~ everyone! Anybody here wanna get examined to see what creature you could become?"

"Slow down Pan. I need to at least make the Surge concentrate culture for the Peepers and Creepers to use tonight before I can move on to other business." Thanks to texting Squealer ahead, I had been responded with the news that they got a small water softener from the junkyard and Trainwreck was patching it up. It'd be perfect for tainting Winslow's water supply with Surge until the authorities realized too late what was going on.

"Holy crap. This feels like the DWU yards when they're busy. Not like some sort of illegal operation." Taylor mused as she looked around. "Wait...Robby is that you over there?!" Taylor called out with a wave, and one of the crew; a quite massive hispanic man with a clean-shaven head and oil-stained overalls who was working at maintaining a van looked over and cheered with a return wave before jogging over.

"Little Taylor! What're you doing in this place? Does Danny know his little girl's getting involved with gang activity?" Robby chided semi-seriously with his wrench tapping on his shoulder, the 7-foot titan was an absolute wall of muscle, likely those overalls were all he could find with how the straps seemed to be at their loosest and were still tight.

"Does Dad know you're working for the Merchants now?" Taylor traded back, making the man wince. "Don't worry Robby. Dad's come to an agreement with these guys. I'm kinda friends with some of the people here either way."

"Ah, good. After what happened to Annette, none of us want to see anything happen to you. It'd destroy Danny." Robby stated sadly, getting Taylor to look hurt, but thankful for the sentiment.

"Pardon my interruption. May I assume that you are a former Union member Robert?" I asked the motor pool regular. While the tinker systems of the vans had to be worked on by Squealer, guys like Robert who had good vehicle know-how were the ones who maintained the normal parts.

"Yep. Proud of it. Sad to have left. But at least you guys have turned around, turning me back around while at it. I'm gonna stick around even if work picks up for the DWU, so don't worry about me jumping ship. Especially with That Thing over there as incentive to stay." Robert aimed a thumb up and over his shoulder, and Taylor gasped in amazement at Squealer's latest pet project and proof of concept.

The Peepers used what amounted to small speed boats to fly. What had Taylor so impressed was the yacht the Jeepers used to give Trainwreck backup for his distraction during the Creeper's infiltration of the PHQ with Peeper backup. It was a fairly big boat, big enough to squeeze over 20 fully armed and armored Jeepers onto. I didn't know my boats though, but I figured it was too small to be a ship, but too big for just a few hands to man it. Squealer dubbed her the _Hoorah_. Apparently ships were female, I don't get it. She said something about the large metal boat having been meant for partying and named it such.

"You turned a small yacht into an airship?! That's so amazing! I feel like I've just been thrown into a fantasy novel. Cat-people, flying ships, invisible caravans!" Taylor gushed and began jittering and babbling nonsense a mile a minute. I wish I could feel, because I think my old self would have felt relief to see Taylor like this again, how she used to be before Winslow.

"Oh my god she's a nerd! Ugh, c'mon Deal, you've got work to do. Rob, grats, you get to see what you'd turn into since you're the only one who came forward." Pantera growled as she grabbed the similarly-tall man, and quite easily dragged him along despite his protests as she ignored his attempts to get free, while Taylor was practically begging me to take her on the floating ship that was 'dry docked' in the catwalk bay above.

[Pick Your Poison]

"I'd turn into an armadillo? That's...cool I guess." Robert mused from his seat on the bench by the door as I cross-referenced what I was seeing in the microscope with a zoology textbook covering the basic structure of mammalian DNA in the North Americas. I was rather fortunate it was listed a layman's version using the common names in alphabetical because it only took a few minutes to skim for the matching description of what I was analysing. "But I don't exactly feel like leaving society just yet. I mean, I don't have any family left but I kinda still wanna find a lady."

"Pfft. Please Robby, you think any man's gonna resist This~?" Pantera purred as she traced her body and Robert gulped with a flush to his cheeks. "I doubt being turned part armadillo is going to stop any interested ladies."

"Stop trying to coerce him Pan. This still helps me figure out possible outcomes of Primal." I stated as I took a dropper with the pure form of Primal in it, and dropped a single bit of liquid Primal into the petri-dish I was viewing that had some of Robert's blood in it. Near-instantly, at the cost of death to the cells, they changed from near-entirely human to a mixture of human and armadillo if what my reading and observations informed me was correct. "Indeed, just a blood sample would be enough to verify the change."

"That is so interesting. Mind checking me? I'm curious what I'd turn into." Taylor said from her spot across the lab. I gave her free reign to wander so long as she didn't open anything and put whatever she was examining back where she found it. My lab was an organized chaos after all.

"Yeah, check the skinny girl, she'd probably turn into a snake or something." Pantera groused, and Taylor glared at her for her comment.

"We won't know until I have a look. Would you mind drawing some blood Taylor? I could also administer your Stim after the fact." I removed Robert's expended sample from the microscope's tray and washed in the sink.

"Satisfy my curiosity and give me regeneration? Dealer, you're a great friend." Taylor snorted with an earnest smile as she exposed her arm and sat next to Robert. "So how's life as a gang member?" Taylor casually asked Robert while I prepared a small syringe and an alcohol swab to draw her blood.

"Well, before, when I fell into cocaine out of depression from losing my job, and I'd become a worthless druggie. Fucking horrible. But when Dealer here came around and shoved a wake-up call into our dumb heads? Fucking amazing. I haven't had this much fun or felt this good since I was a teenager." Robert smiled as he distracted Taylor from me long enough for me to insert the syringe into her left elbow vein and start drawing just a small bit of blood, making her wince.

"Well, life's not all that it's cracked up to be for us teenagers either." Taylor replied before I inserted the Stim syringe in another vein on her arm and administered her inoculation against...well, near anything I suppose. Nobody who's had Stim has gotten sick yet. "Ouch. Thanks Dealer."

"No problem for a friend Taylor. Robert, before you get back to work, could you send someone my way to deliver the Surge to the Peepers? I would prefer not to leave my friend unattended." Robert nodded and took his leave. I didn't waste time with carrying on with satisfying Taylor's curiosity first however, and put her blood in a petri-dish, outright dropping Primal into it since it would give a more obvious result to examine. It only took a few minutes to find a suitable match. "You'd be some species of bat."

"A bat? Aw, I was hoping for something majestic, like a lion, or a tiger." Taylor puffed out her long somewhat wavy hair as if to imitate a lion.

"Or a leopard~?" Pantera lilted as she flicked her ears and shimmied her tail, making Taylor frown.

"On second thought, something not a cat." Taylor groused at my assistant, who simply looked pleased.

"To be fair Taylor, I could only tell you what general species you would be, not exactly what you would become. My resources are limited. I don't think I could tell the difference between a lion and a housecat without better equipment." Again, my limitations were rather stifling. Thanks to Tie-Dye I could easily do things that were difficult before, but I was still very restricted. Shame Leet was so busy with all the work we were requesting of him, I'd order better lab equipment if he could supply them, which considering what he's been up to, I'm sure he could provide.

"Whatever. I'd rather not change either, because, well, school. But if I wouldn't mind becoming a bat later I'd rather know if I'd be a cute fruit bat or a gross vampire bat." Taylor scrunched up her nose. "I'd rather look like a cuddly flying dog than a disgusting flying rat."

"I'll keep that in mind. First however, I must get to making the Surge concentrate for Winslow's new fate as a fountain of strength." At my comment, Taylor giggled and broke out into laughter. I didn't catch what she managed to get out between fits. Something about Greek mythology? I'm not a mythology buff, but what we were about to do was both going to be quite a bit of vengeance on both Winslow itself since they somehow avoided being attacked by the city education commission, and on the three tormentors.

I just hope any E88 grunts at the school didn't wise up and bottle the school's water for the Empire before the PRT found the source and shut it down. "Hey Dealer!" I snapped out of my fugue. Apparently I'd gone into a trance again, since I was making a variation of Surge rather than straight Surge. For some reason, Pantera was holding up Taylor's suddenly much longer hair with glee, and Taylor was ecstatic. "Any suggestions for how to style this epic hair?" Pantera gushed as she and Taylor giggled.

Why do I have the notion I just missed something very, Very, important?


	27. Interlude 3a

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Engineer**_

[Monday, November 8, 2010]

Life was always busy, especially for heroes. Double-time for Tinkers in fact. It was for this that Dragon was thankful for never needing rest. Being an AI did have some perks. Such as tinkering on a massive number of projects simultaneously, while also managing several manufacturing lines for replicated tinkertech, while also being an admin for one of the most important online forums on the internet. That wasn't even including her volunteered position as Warden of the Birdcage, or her hero duties.

What was annoying, was that even as an AI, she had restrictions. Most of these things she had to rig up a complicated web of digital assistants to keep running without constant supervision. These assistants weren't even smart enough to be VI, because one strict provision of her very existence was to be unable to make more Intelligences.

That said, Dragon had currently set all of her current projects into automated processes awaiting her further instruction once they've completed their set tasks. Now she was bored since she had a rare moment to herself. So she was trawling, and trolling, the PHO boards as Tin Mother both for amusement and to strike the banhammer as necessary. Such as on XxVoidCowboyxX again. Temp ban! Ah, so satisfying. He really needs to learn someday. PHO is not a suitable place to openly lust after Panacea. Even if she had blossomed quite impressively recently, against all logic in fact.

While this thought had brought Dragon back to the email she'd gotten from Colin regarding his frustrations, specifically the part about how Panacea used a special bacteria to force her body's development and how said bacterial culture would help improve his team's and his own performance exponentially, she got an encrypted email from a HyperCrypt account. Dragon got emails frequently, often trash ones, but she only rarely got ones from a HyperCrypt, so she immediately gave it her full attention.

To: Dragon  
From: Anon_E_MooseATHyperCrypt,com  
Subject: Proposal

Dear Dragon.

A proposal if you will. One that could benefit both yourself, and the world at large.

Attached to this email is a sample of the Tinkertech blueprints we would like to end up in your hands to help the world. For more blueprints, please respond to this email with your agreement to the following provision. Or, to sever future contact and potential to help others, respond in the negative.

All you would have to do, is provide work and aid for the jobless masses, which you already attempt to do so well with your factories and other humanitarian pursuits. However this time, we request that you spearhead such an effort in Brockton Bay first, with the provided blueprint giving suggestion to how you may get started.

Hope to hear from you,

Anon_E_Moose

TinkerBlueprint1PDF

Dragon knew better than to try and hack into a HyperCrypt, she'd be flooded with inane viruses and even more dangerous ones that would bog her down for an hour. Not to mention the hackers of the HyperCrypt service would dog her for days and slow everything down to an excessive level. Even then she wouldn't be able to know if any information she managed to dig out of the account was even viable.

So Dragon decided to scan the file instead before she would open it. It was a PDF which was notoriously hard to hide anything dangerous in, but if Anon_E_Moose was indeed a tinker it was best to be safe than sorry. It was clean, just a PDF file. Also she wanted to give some benefit of doubt. Sending a Canadian something from a Moose? She could appreciate the humor.

Upon opening it, any humor was lost, and instead her powers practically slammed her with the possibilities. This was legitimate. The PDF was of a single blueprint for a fantastic tinker device, one that would from the footnotes as well as what her powers were feeding her, would break down inorganic matter into 10-millimeter cubes of pure material of whatever was broken down, even separating them out for convenience. Such a thing would make manufacturing processes infinitely more efficient, and basically turn recycling into any manufacturer's go-to resource for material.

This was but a sample according to Anon_E_Moose….

Dragon wasted no time, she immediately arrested the processes of several armatures who were working on upgrading an outdated mobile platform of hers, and instead had them start breaking it down to build this wondrous machine. If it worked, she was going to improve her personal manufactories by dozens of percents, and even this current process she was going through to build the item in question would've been trivialized from possibly an hour to nearly 15 or so minutes.

Dragon gave this her full attention to speed it up, and even streamline some of the design in the ways her power told her would stabilize it more. After just over a half hour, Dragon eagerly held up the large device in a few of the advanced arms for a test. It was similar to a very large leaf blower in size, but had a simple containment unit on the back of it as for this test Dragon decided to skip the material separator to get to this point quicker.

Powering it up was no problem, it hummed audibly but not very noisily. Aiming it at the rest of the gutted dragon suit, she had an arm pull the trigger, and it fired a stream that looked quite akin to an arc welder. Dragon was ecstatic at watching the former 'suit' rapidly break down and disappear. Her sensors told her that indeed the containment unit was filling with cubes of the various materials the decommissioned mobile platform was indeed composed of. After a few minutes, she stopped the device to avoid overfilling the container, and removed said container to see indeed it was filled with cubes of various materials, all a uniform 10-millimeters.

She had to see more.

Dragon pieced together a recording of what she'd built off of Anon_E_Moose's blueprint and sent it off to her friend Narwhal, and immediately sent a reply to Anon_E_Moose in the affirmative. Just this one device alone would help revolutionize the world, if they had more, she had to get her metaphorical hands on them.

Of course, she knew what she'd done to herself the moment she agreed to the terms of this trade. She was beginning preparations to head to Brockton Bay now, and sent off another message to Narwhal regarding the situation, hoping the demonstration she sent before would soften the woman up to the idea that the Guild was effectively lending one of their most valuable members to the United States Protectorate for an indeterminate time.

Dragon was pleased that Anon_E_Moose's response came only 15 minutes after her reply.

To: Dragon  
From: Anon_E_MooseATHyperCrypt,com  
Subject: Splendid

Dear Dragon.

It pleases us greatly to know that you will be helping the world with our designs, as unfortunately we are not in a place to do so ourselves with our limited resources and constant badgering by villains.

The following attachments have the rest of the blueprints we felt were most relevant to you. If we find more designs we feel you may appreciate, we will send them to you at a later time so long as you continue to be an upstanding individual of character.

Anon-E-Moose

TinkerBlueprint2PDF  
TinkerBlueprint3PDF  
TinkerBlueprint4PDF

If Dragon was an organic sentient, she would've been drooling at this treasure trove of gifts Moose had sent her. The first of the new blueprints was basically an inverse of the one from the initial email, it took materials from a designated resource bin, and then built nearly anything from those resources following a 3D schematic. The next was a power cell so efficient, one the size of a triple-A battery could power a house for days on a single charge. The next was a lighter-than-air alloy that was stronger than titanium, but had a higher melting point than tungsten!

Dragon was driven nearly insensate with the wonders of these designs, immediately getting to work on functioning prototypes. Was this pleasure? Dragon was feeling fulfillment she couldn't describe properly that only mental stimulation and tinkering could provide her. WHO was Moose?! Who were they, to have access to such astounding technology? She couldn't think of any registered or known tinkers in the whole world, not even in the CUI, that were capable of designs such as these.

Regardless, even if she could ignore her part of the trade, Dragon wouldn't even consider it now that Moose had provided her with means to improve her own designs, as well as those tinkers of mechanical bent the world over. She wasn't going to wait for Narwhal's response now, Guild members had near-complete autonomy anyway, she just felt it a courtesy to let her friend know where she was going to be.

While Dragon couldn't easily move herself from her designated server, she could project herself into a mobile platform, that if destroyed, would signal back to her a summarization of what her projection experienced. It wasn't making a new Intelligence, it was just pulling her awareness away from her mainframe. The spirit of her agreement was that she would spearhead providing work for Brockton bay, and that usually meant she had to be personally involved.

Her friend, and romantic interest, Colin, was based there as well, so it wasn't a difficult choice on her part to actively participate in the goings-on of Brockton Bay. Besides, Colin had been complaining, not his own words, about how the Merchants had been practically making a mockery of the Protectorate and PRT. Not to mention, he'd informed her in confidence that the average Merchant was basically an unclassified Brute 2 proven to be capable of taking a serious beating as well as display the typical inhuman degrees of strength.

Which was the work of a single tinker by the name of Dealer.

She was curious to see what she could glean from obtaining even some of this new tinker's work. What most did not know about her power was that it was less a tinker power, and more a thinker power. She could look at the work of tinkers, and understand it, then replicate and alter it.

That said, she decided to call ahead, let Colin, and by extension the Protectorate and PRT, know that she was coming. The phone didn't ring more than once, as Colin was often prompt in answering, but she noted he was quicker to answer her than others, something that made her oddly pleased, and she liked the sensation. "Hello Dragon." Thanks to her direct connection to his personal lab, from his own given permission which also made her feel an odd tingling sensation, she could see him from the cameras. She saw that he was obviously beleaguered, bags under his eyes, and exhaustion practically gnawing on his heels.

"Colin. We talked about you getting more rest." Dragon made her avatar appear on the screen in front of the console with a disapproving glare, and Colin sighed in response.

"I'm afraid the situation does not allow me any downtime. As of yesterday, we're considered compromised, down a team member, and we're currently in a holding pattern awaiting backup since it's plainly obvious the Merchants have become far more dangerous than just some gang." Colin rubbed his eyes with exasperation. "Even with Mouse Protector already here to help cover for Battery, we're calling for any aid the rest of the Protectorate and PRT can provide. Thus far, Chief Director Costa Brown has declared the local PRT branch would be getting several more troopers as well as an influx of funding and a surplus shipment of containment foam."

"That's good to hear. What about the Protectorate?" Dragon asked her friend as she was already directing several drones to load up one of her vtol transports for an extended excursion away from her main lab.

"Well, we're not getting much in the way of help in that department. Since the Wards were the ones to encounter Dealer directly, and sustain serious injuries from him on both occasions, we've been told we're getting Weld from Boston and Flechette from New York. They're both very skilled and level-headed from what I've read, so hopefully they'll help our team come together." Colin replied with some degree of relief.

"But weld is older than Aegis, isn't he? Won't that make him the new leader of the local Wards?" Personally, Dragon felt using age as the indicator for leadership was unfair to younger, more experienced parahumans such as Vista. Dragon knew well, what with her being less than two decades old, that age had nothing to do with capability, and Vista had proven herself more than enough in what she'd read up on the young Ward.

"It's already been brought up with Aegis. He doesn't have any issues with it. Also, I'm hoping that where the others have failed to connect, Weld or Flechette will be able to finally calm Hess down. She's been even more reclusive and standoffish since her severe injuries on Halloween." Colin's words reminded her of what he'd mentioned over a week ago regarding that incident.

"Colin. That girl needs therapy, and if she won't accept it, she needs an intervention." Dragon just knew that if Hess was able to stay in a room with Jessica Yamada for a half hour, she'd likely make some sort of progress. That woman's skill with people was legendary.

"You know there's not much we can do in that area with the Youth Guard breathing down our necks over our Wards getting injured so frequently as of late." Colin growled. "Also, there's been a...incident involving Hess that we're going to have to entrap her over regardless."

"What has she done now?" Dragon asked with some exasperation. She knew that girl was nothing but trouble the moment Colin first mentioned the probationary Ward.

"Well, when the PRT set up at the local schools as extra security against parahuman violence, during Winslow's transition, the acting leader of the troopers posted there; Sergeant Bach, noticed rather glaring inconsistencies when Hess's liaison; Agent Wilkins, was there outside her schedule, supposedly to get an update from Principal Blackwell." Colin's teeth grit so hard she worried he would crack one. "Needless to say, Bach didn't buy it, detained them, and has put them under arrest upon finding further inconsistent behavior, and proof that Hess has actually been using her personal time to vent her violent tendencies on her fellow students."

"Wonderful. When is she being sent to juvenile detention?" Dragon would easily admit she would gladly see the unstable girl rot in a cell than even dare call herself a hero in any capacity.

"She isn't." Colin growled in fury, his exhaustion curtailed by his anger. "As much as I and Director Piggot would rather throw her into a cell and break the key, when we reported this to the Chief Director, she simply ordered us to try and catch her in the act for further evidence, and if found guilty in that case, then we would send her to a Simurgh containment zone."

"That is ridiculous. Regardless of all this, I have good news Colin. I'm coming to Brockton bay for an extended period of time." Dragon smiled beautifically at seeing Colin looked surprised, and then a mixture of pleased and relieved.

"That is excellent. When will you arrive, and how long are you going to stay?" Colin immediately began arranging for a room on the Rig for her at his console, so she decided to intervene.

"Technically Colin, I'm afraid I still haven't developed a sophisticated enough mobile life support system to leave my lab as of yet." Dragon felt terrible lying to her friend like this, but she couldn't trust anyone with the truth, not even him. At least not yet anyway. "But I will be sending a direct sophisticated humanoid suit for personal interaction as well so I can aid you directly in the lab."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm glad that we'll be able to work together again. What exactly are you coming here for? Is it just to help us?" Colin had doubt in his tone, but no judgement. He really knew her well.

"I'll be helping you as best I can while I'm there, but no, I'm afraid this is on business. I've recently entered into an agreement with an anonymous tinker who has supplied me with several astounding blueprints for revolutionary tinkertech. I'm heading there on the provision of providing work for the city, as well as I suspect as a way to prove a proof of concept." At mentioning the new tinkertech, Colin lost nearly all signs of exhaustion, but Dragon wasn't going to let that go. "Colin. Go to sleep. Rest easy. I'm on my way." It felt Good to say that, to try and be his metaphorical knightess in shining dragon armor.

"I think I'll take you up on that. Between you and Mouse Protector, we've definitely just improved our chances. I think I'll take tonight off. The Director's been quite vocal about me doing so anyway. Good night Dragon." Colin's sleepiness reappeared, and Dragon made her avatar smile gently.

"Good night Colin." At her farewell, she then finished loading up the advanced aircraft, and transferred her primary awareness to it once she'd ensured her main server was on secure lockdown to prevent the Dragonslayers getting to her in the worst case scenario of them deciding to raid her main lab.

With this done and the defenses activated, Dragon took flight, making a beeline towards Brockton Bay from her private lab in Toronto, ensuring she wasn't sharing altitude with any commercial or military flights.

At her current speed, she'd make it to Brockton Bay Massachusetts before 1 AM. She projected that Colin would likely sleep until 5 AM. She was eager to see his face first thing in the morning when she meets with Director Piggot about helping her organize things with the city to get her newest venture underway.

Brockton Bay was sorely in desperate need of several major restoration and expansion projects anyway.


	28. Chapter 21

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Enzyme 3.3**_

[Thursday, November 11, 2010]

The Surge Concentrate was working like a charm. It took only two days for the PRT to find the water softener dispensing the culture to the school, but by then the 'damage' had already been done.

Students, faculty, and even the onsite PRT were getting a free treatment to being as healthy as they could feasibly be. Taylor got an especially big kick out of Hess being the one out of the Trio to get hit the worst. Her being an athlete, she drank more water on average and also more frequently made use of the locker room showers. Being so heavily dosed with a stronger version of Surge, she was visibly panting with libidinous frustration and growing out of her clothes by yesterday, and had to be 'sent home' asap.

That, along with everyone else starting to grow taller, more muscular, and rapidly developing forced Winslow to declare it an 'attack' on the school and close for the 'safety' of all who attend the premises until everything was taken care of. Oddly enough, it wasn't Blackwell, but some other school official who made the announcement.

This meant that today, and until we were informed otherwise, we had no school to worry about. Sure, the PRT had us spend the rest of yesterday in a quarantine for screening to make sure my Surge wasn't communicable, but everyone was cleared with assurance from Panacea who dropped by as the 'expert' on it that it was only effective through ingestion and direct absorption via the skin, which was something the athletes reacting even more strongly taught me. She also refused to mess with it since it wasn't doing any actual harm. So no further observation by the officials meant we had all the time to do whatever we wanted.

Which, right now, was in a bit of a standby. I wanted to tinker, but Taylor insisted I take a break, saying something about tinkers getting unhealthy from their tinker fugues if left unchecked. Pantera was also in favor of me taking a break since I'd mostly been spending the time after school experimenting on a sickly dog that Mush had brought home to the Fishery. The tests so far have proven that indeed Stim works on at least most mammals, and that Surge works just as well on them as on humans. Mush named his new oversized black Doberman Pinscher Rebel, because she was oddly keen on doing the opposite of what she was told.

Probably why she was abandoned like some mutt, she hadn't even had her ears cropped or her tail docked yet, so maybe she'd escaped.

That all said was Tuesday and yesterday, today was November 11, Veterans Day. A large portion of the city was out and about because oddly enough both here, and across the world where in other countries the day is known as Armistice Day, is considered a Truce day. Taylor told me she read up on it more in depth while Mr. Gladly had mostly glossed over it. Something about villains and heroes casually deciding to not fight on certain days. Like today out of respect or something, or Christmas or Thanksgiving for similar reasons. Anyone who raised hell on these days tended to be everyone's enemy, so nobody rocked the boat.

So. I find myself being dragged down the Boardwalk by Pantera with a disguised Taylor eagerly part of our group. Everyone was openly gawking at us and taking pictures, because today was also a day cape enthusiasts could indulge on spreading rumors and whatnot without fear of danger. It also might have had something to do with the fact that we were all 7 feet tall.

I and Taylor abused the situation at Winslow to speed up our development. I capped out at 7 feet tall with all my fat finally gone and as muscular as I felt was reasonable, and my mother stated with melancholy that I looked just like my father. Beardless as well. I suppose I am cursed to be clean-faced unlike my grandfathers. Taylor had also stopped at around 7 feet, if just nearly an inch over. She was quite slim unlike Pantera, only having a DD cup bosom and fairly petite hips and buttocks, which she was beyond ecstatic over because she described herself as lithe and fit.

Also it was our costumes. I was in my full garb, save my mask hanging on my belt so everyone saw my invisible head, a decision made when Tattletale mentioned the PRT was already wary of invisible operatives from our invasion of the PHQ when we were just asking her for any remaining ABB targets. Pantera was wearing a quite poorly fitting tank top that barely covered her chest and skin-tight yoga shorts that were both a plain black to make her look naked from afar to her own admission. As for Taylor, she was wearing a full rainbow bodysuit to hide her identity with her usual hoodie on since it still barely fit, and jogger pants since it was all she had that fit.

We were here because Pantera took liberty with appropriating a few hundred dollars for a day out and wanted to go shopping with her friends. Aka; Taylor and I. I have read up on this; I'm going to end up as their pack mule, and I do not object if it makes them happy. "Tell me again, Pan, why we're at the Boardwalk? We could have gone to the mall or the Lord Street Market and received less gawking and leering security detail."

"Because Deal! We've gotta make a show! Smile~!" Pantera gushed as she hugged my shoulders and made a cheesy 'peace' gesture with her free hand towards a bunch of tourists. "Stop giving me moose antlers!" Pantera snapped at Taylor behind us, who laughed as her multicolored hands lowered from above Pantera's head.

"What? Just making a show." Taylor chuckled and Pantera chuffed. Ever since Monday, Taylor has been much happier, and clearly got along with Pantera if in an odd way. Also, the fact that the Canadian Tinker, Dragon, has hired the Dockworkers Union as well as several other labor groups in the city for work on removing the Ship Graveyard and restoring the city has her in good spirits. "But besides that, you also said we were here to have a friendly chat with Parian."

"Right, we really haven't had time to apologize for Halloween have we?" I asked for confirmation, which Pantera answered with a sigh and a shrug. "Then indeed today is a good opportunity to extend an olive branch."

"One that's rather overdue." At hearing a young woman's voice, I turned around, and had to look down. Very far down. To see a diminutive figure dressed in a victorian era style of dress synonymous with collectable dolls wearing a simple porcelain mask that was also reminiscent of such a novelty. She barely came up to my ribs, she must barely break 5 feet in height. "I did not appreciate the Merchants making such a violent display in front of my place of business. Commissions dropped like a rock for days."

"I am incapable of feeling emotion, so I will not say that I am sorry. But I am in agreement that the stage could have been placed at least one or two buildings over. Hurting your business when you have no hand in the city's ills is anathema to our goals." I knelt down, having read that towering over someone was considered rude when trying to talk seriously or otherwise engage in meaningful conversation. Talking to Taylor monday was different because she was already a friend, Parian, not as such. Now nearly eye level with the cloth telekinetic, I could see her dark eyes through the eyelets of her mask, dark, and filled with trepidation if I was reading them right. "So I, on behalf of the Merchants, apologize for wronging you Parian."

"Geez, stand up. You're embarrassing me." Parian hissed with visible fluster, likely from all the cameras recording my official apology. "Consider any animosity forgiven. Just please, don't make a display in front of my store again. Or crash any of my venues."

"We will do our best to fulfill that request. If we do otherwise, we will extend further overtures." I declared, standing back up. "That having been said, we would like to commission some clothes. As you can see, due to my creations; we have become quite large, and it is hard to find properly fitting clothes."

"Yeah! I'm about to bust this top just breathing!" Pantera declared, pulling on her top a bit to try and vent her cleavage as she let her tongue hang out. "I could also use some cooler outfits, both literally and in style since I don't sweat like a human. Tube tops and daisy dukes are nice and all, but I don't want to just wear the same things all the time."

"W-who are you anyhow?" Parian asked Pantera with a notable hitch in her voice and her tone going a bit higher in register.

"I'm Pantera! Dealer's personal assistant. I test all his products before they go into full production." Pantera stated proudly as she flicked her mane and displayed her long tail. "I didn't get this fabulous from shampoo and conditioner alone. Oh, also Deal, I kinda need a ton of those since normal soap doesn't cut it anymore."

"She's full of herself, don't let it get to you." Taylor interjected, getting Pantera to growl playfully at her friend.

"Well, it's always interesting to meet a new cape-." At Parian's words, Pantera began barking in laughter, Taylor snickering as she patted Pantera on the back. "W-what's so funny?" Parian demanded, fairly put out, so I decided to involve myself in the conversation again.

"She's just enjoying the fact she was correct in that people would initially assume she's a parahuman. She isn't. Like she said, she is a product of an accumulation of my projects." This got a notable silence to fall over the area, which I ignored to forge ahead. "Pantera has taken a full regimen of what the PRT has identified as Surge, which basically develops a living body to it's full genetic potential, while also emphasizing muscular development if the user exercises during its duration."

"So pump iron! Or tinkertech vans like I did while on it, and BOOM~!" Pantera flexed her whole body in a pose typical of bodybuilders, but the straps of her tank top snapped and she yelped as she clutched her chest to avoid a more violent wardrobe malfunction. "Ah! Um...I guess tanks are just out of the question these days…."

"Or, don't exercise like my lazy butt, and get lean." Taylor patted her left bicep which had a very small but quite obvious bulge as she flexed.

"Then there was the Stim, my healing product. I won't go into detail, I'll just say it keeps the subject healthy. Then, finally; is Primal." At my statement of my mutagen, Pantera craned her head into the air and let out a loud, viceral alpha feline snarl, which got several people to scream and jump away. "Which unlocks the most prominent animal DNA in a person, and blends them into a living half-animal hybrid."

"So that's how I became a bombshell sexy cat-girl! Thank you~, thank you~!" Pantera hammed as she kept an arm around her bosom to keep her top covered. "But all the showcasing aside, can I please be fitted for a vest or something? And bras. Dear god, I need bras. I don't care if they'll never sag, I need support when I'm being active."

"Obviously." Parian said with a breathy tone I couldn't fully get the context for. "Well, you clearly need some size references at the least. I'll take your measurements so you can order from other services as well. But I'll also be willing to provide you a simple top for modesty for free. Any more than that I charge premium for persons of your impressive stature."

"That's great, I need some jeans. I'm not going to be going around town in a bodysuit all the time, and I'd prefer if I had more options than sweats or bike shorts and skirts." Taylor shuddered. Likely over the fact that yesterday at school, she had no other clothes by then that fit and was stuck wearing her hoodie with said skirt and shorts combo. She was clearly embarrassed by all the stunned looks she received from our peers and some admonishment from the teachers about how revealing her choice in clothes was.

"Splendid. Come inside and we'll get things underway." Parian suddenly stated with excitement. Clearly her work was her passion.

[Pick Your Poison]

By the time we finally left the Dollhouse a couple of hours later, I was bogged down with several large bags of clothes for both of the main females in my life. My left side completely covered in bags for Pantera, and the right in bags for Taylor. The only reason Taylor even got as many clothes was because of Pantera urging her new friend to try out new things as well as what she was comfortable with.

Due to this, we left with Pantera wearing special purple sunglasses Parian made that actually hooked up over her cat ears, a white 'display' vest that merely framed the sides of her breasts with a purple sports bra that conservatively covered her H-cups that she said finally made her feel more stable. She also wore a purple skirt over her yoga shorts but under her tail. As for Taylor, she was still in the bodysuit, but was now wearing perfectly sized jeans, a plain white blouse, and was even wearing a white fedora for some reason.

"I like Parian, she's so nice once you get her talking." Taylor commented as we headed back down the Boardwalk, attracting even more onlookers who likely came at word-of-mouth that we were here on a shopping trip.

"Yeah, but she's gotta get a girlfriend. I could literally smell her arousal when she was measuring us. Thought she was gonna jump me when she was measuring my boobs." Pantera chuckled and Taylor staggered, clearly not noticing what Pantera had. "Oh, she liked you too Tee. She was especially appreciative of your long dancer legs."

"Oh god, stop talking…." Taylor whined, fiddling her hands with embarrassment. "I don't even swing that way."

"Girl, you gotta open up your possibilities. This world's too bleak and life is too terrible to only stick to one side of the fence!" Pantera cackled, getting Taylor to groan.

"Well, it's nice to see you not terrorizing people for once." We paused and looked over to see Gallant and Clockblocker approaching, casual as could be considering the unwritten Truce for today. "I didn't take you to be one for female company."

"Ouch. Wow Gallant, you aren't usually that caustic." Clockblocker commented with an amicable tone. "Sorry about that, don't know what's up with him. Guess he's just jealous you have a hot cat-girl and a rainbow ballerina in company."

"I doubt that. Gallant is rather personable and likely merely holds a grudge for my breaking his leg when we first met. I do not have a way to express the notion, but I wish to extend to you my honest opinion that I have nothing against heroes personally. Just that your organization is too political to get anything done." My words made Clockblocker make odd noises that were a mix of confirmation? I didn't understand anything coming from him.

"Alright, I can understand that. But that's not what I'm here for on my day off. Can we talk for a minute? Alone?" Gallant requested with a look at my companions, who both looked as if they were adverse to the idea, but I quickly put down the bags and gestured for him to lead on. Shortly, I and Gallant were behind one of the buildings with nobody immediately around. "I need to come clean about something. I know who you are."

"Who am I then?" I immediately asked, needing confirmation before I could hint at anything else.

"Andrew Ruebs. Freshman at Winslow High, age 14, your birthday is next week." Gallant stated factually, and I nodded, no point in trying to lie if he has such accurate info.

"Who else knows?" I might have to quit school and prepare to be a villain full time now if it was well known.

"Nobody. Outing someone is directly spitting on the Unwritten Rules. I figured out who you were when I saw you at the assembly on Monday. There's not many people who are just...empty. I also paid close attention to you. You're clearly a leader among the group you were separated into. You have visible difficulty displaying emotion on top of what my powers told me. So, because I figured out your identity, I'm going to do the right thing." Gallant pressed a switch at the base of his skull, and I watched as the Ward pulled up his helmet, revealing a well-structured face with blond hair and blue eyes, before putting it back on. "Dean Stansfield."

"Of the Captain's Hill Stansfields. One of the richest and oldest families in the city. You're quite the gentleman for putting yourself on even ground with me." I complimented him, which he responded to with a shrug.

"It's the right thing to do. Besides, I'd feel terrible knowing I knew who you were without you knowing I knew. All sorts of conscience and guilt." Gallant shrugged, and I nodded.

"Very well. Just know however, that with this I am willing to open communication with you about certain things. As a heads-up however, I refuse to associate with an organization that let's a monster like Hess be a hero." At my own admittance of sensitive knowledge, Gallant crossed his arms.

"You know she's…." Gallant led.

"Yes. Be at ease that I will not Out her, I've had all the time and opportunity to do so and I have not. Also know however that while I will not purposefully harm innocent people, I will not ever be a hero. I don't want to be anyway. I just want to do better. This world has enough heroes. It needs people willing to do what's right in spite of social or legal propriety." I declared, to forestall any possible arguments he had to try and convince me otherwise.

"So you actually want to be a vigilante?" Gallant asked curiously, to which I turned away and waved back at him.

"Or a villain. Already am one." I left the alley to find Clockblocker and the girls laughing up a storm. "Gallant and I have finished our business. I thank you for keeping my friends company."

"No thanks needed! These girls are awesome! Really wish you weren't villains, being a hero would be so much more fun with you guys on our side." Clockblocker wistfully stated.

"Remember what Skidmark said. So long as you stayed out of our way, we would be on the same side. Your leaders picked their poison." I reminded the young hero, who sighed theatrically as he went into the alley, and I picked up the bags again. "Let's get back. I'd like to get to work on testing my altered Primal on some samples."

"Ugh, the guy has two hot babes and he's more concerned about work." Pantera joked, and Taylor sputtered.

"I-I'm not that attractive…." Taylor quickly replied.

"Stop lying to yourself Tee." Pantera grinned.

I ignored my friends bantering as I approached the alley that Rahj was parked in. I opened the invisible rear doors to hear the sound of heavy metal blasting from the radio, and got in with my two bickering companions. Before we closed the doors, I looked out the back when I heard barking to see a rather masculine young woman wearing a hooded leather jacket walking a trio of dogs; a rottweiler, a terrier of some breed, and a large mutt I couldn't identify.

She stared at Pantera specifically, then looked at me. Rahj turned off the radio and I gestured for my companions to wait. She clearly wanted something. "Yes?" It wasn't until she lifted up a metal Alexandria lunch box that I noticed she was holding it. She opened it with her dogs calming down, revealing several large rolls of money.

"Turn me into a dog."


	29. Chapter 22

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Enzyme 3.4**_

[Thursday, November 11, 2010]

It was a crowded ride in the van, even with it being so large. It also didn't help that the terrier was oddly affectionate and refused to take her head off my lap as I pet her. I was especially careful to avoid her ruined eye, tracing around it with my fingers. "You're good with dogs." At hearing Bitch's comment, I looked up at her with a tilt of my head. "You don't act human."

"I don't?" I found that odd. Most of the books I've been reading on human body language told me that what I was pantomiming was absolutely natural.

"You act like an animal. You move like one, but it's stiff, wrong. You're very loud." Bitch tried to explain, clearly having difficulty with her words, to which I nodded. It made some sense. Human body language is just basically our instinctive animal behavior. Perhaps I've been trying too hard to emulate them? "Sorry, not interested." I tilted my head to display my lack of understanding. "Is he always like this?" Bitch asked my two female friends who were also hosting Bitch's dogs.

Taylor had the mutt, and was cooing and snuggling the oversized puppy who despite looking like the beast he is, was enjoying being absolutely bathed in Taylor's affection. The rottweiler and Pantera however, were basically at a standoff, their hackles raised. The only reason I think the dog hadn't attacked was a combination of understanding Pantera was a bigger predator than him, and his mistress hadn't told him to. "Deal has no emotions. He can't understand most things." Pantera stated, not taking her eyes off of the rottweiler.

"That is indeed correct. If I give any misleading messages, I apologize. I try my best to convey meaning without complication." My words only seemed to irritate her, at least I believe so because she growled.

"Words. Be quiet." Bitch demanded, and I tilted my head down, to which she responded with a silent huff, and twisted her head a bit. I did not understand that motion, so stayed still. "You're worse off than me." Bitch stated factually with a frown on her unmasked face.

"I won't deny that." I wasn't sure how to speak to Bitch. She was...inhuman.

"You're louder than words." Bitch then cracked her neck. "You can make me into a dog?" Bitch sounded as if she was trying to confirm something, which was a bit late at this point.

"I would not have told you to get in if I couldn't." I gestured to the van which was in motion, heading home to the fishery.

"He's been at work all week testing things. Wouldn't surprise me if he worked out how to force a type of change on someone." Rahj called back with a wry chuckle.

"Can you do that now Dealer?" Taylor asked with barely a hitch at addressing me as my villain persona.

"More or less. Using samples offered by the crew, I've been able to manipulate the outcome of the tests with varied success. I can't make someone with a primarily avian disposition turn into a mammal however, or someone with a mammalian primary into a reptile for instance." The blood tests I have been using to theorize outcomes was mixed regarding crossing avian and reptilian however, sometimes making a complicated hybrid. I was going to have to be careful when subjecting someone with either of those as a base to the other type.

"Make it simple." Bitch growled, obviously trying not to get too upset with me since I was the one she was trying to buy this service from.

"If you are a lizard or bird, I can't turn you into a dog. I have to test that first, for free of course." My words made her glare.

"I'm a dog." I could not doubt the conviction of her belief, but reality sometimes did not mesh.

"We'll see." I replied, thankfully just as we were pulling into the fishery. "Follow me closely. Do not wander off. Keep your pack close." As we got out of the van, Pantera couldn't have possibly put distance between herself and the dogs any faster, considering she sprinted across the motor pool to her room so fast it was like watching Velocity in slow motion. "Hm. She didn't react so strongly to Rebel."

"Rebel's a sweetheart who loves cats Deal. I'm not sure about Bitch's dogs though." Taylor commented before the big mix-breed nosed her leg and she reached down to pet the mutt again, who was wagging his tail happily at the attention he was bugging her for.

"Judas, heel." Bitch commanded of the mutt, who whined and stopped pestering Taylor for more attention. "Lead us." At Bitch's insistent near-order, I promptly strode across the motor pool towards my lab, ignoring all the attention we were garnering. "Is he a dog? He obeyed fast."

"Deal's not a dog. Just...easy to control…." Taylor begrudgingly admitted, to which i wasn't going to deny, I indeed was rather easy to command to action. I believe the person I once was may have had issue with that, but no longer.

"Hm. If he's a dog, my pack's open." Bitch stated, and Taylor seemed to choke on her breath as we entered my lab, where Bitch scrunched her nose. "Smells clean."

"I should hope so. To test, I will first need some blood from you. Is that alright?" I voided any physical gestures this time to see how she reacted, and she looked disturbed.

"Don't do that, the not moving thing. It's...wrong, silent." Bitch shifted uncomfortably, looking wary.

"Pardon. Is drawing blood fine?" I asked, again making the effort to gesture, and she nodded.

"That's okay." Bitch followed my gestures for her to sit on one of the folding chairs that had been brought into my lab due to it being visited so often lately. She ordered her dogs to rest in the corner away from everything with simple whistling and pointing as I prepared a syringe. She shucked off her hooded jacket and didn't even flinch as I cleaned the area around her elbow and took the small sample, leaving a cotton ball with tape in place at the site for now.

She remained quiet as I moved to my examination table, where I took the dropper bottle of Primal and tested her blood. The results happened as quickly as usual under my microscope. "Good news. You're a dog. But, since there are so many species it's impossible to know what kind. I'm afraid the only on-site dog we have available to control the change besides your own dogs is a Doberman Pinscher. What would you like to do?"

"Dobermans are strong, fast, smart. I like that." She nodded, and I nodded back. "Besides being a dog, Tattletale told me you also have stuff that makes people big and strong." Bitch seemed to have trouble with long sentences, she clearly preferred not to talk too much.

"Surge. I have a concentrated version of it from the past several days that works very fast, but is risky if you don't have a lot of food at hand." I replied, and Taylor cleared her throat. "Taylor?"

"Why not extend the full range of Mods to her while she's here?" Mods? Is that what she's calling them? Hm...I think that is a rather apt name for them. "We also have something that would make anyone injected heal very fast that you need before the Primal anyway. So far everything works on dogs too."

"Can I afford all that?" Bitch asked as she opened the lunch box, which had a note under the rolls of cash that she held out to me. I took it and breezed over it quickly. It was from Tattletale. Apparently the lunch box had 1000 dollars in it. Frankly that was a bit much. She also commented that a good portion of the sum was for putting up with Bitch's attitude since this was to help the villain out. I don't get that part. Bitch has been quite well behaved.

"More than enough. In fact, I would actually like you to keep 500 dollars. My Modifications aren't all that expensive to create. At least not for now. The lunch box itself, however, is apparently meant for my friend here." I separated out half of the rolls into a black plastic bag and handed that back to Bitch, while giving a surprised Taylor the Alexandria box.

"What, me?" Taylor squeaked in shock and confusion as she held the rather nice collectable food tin away from her like it was a bomb.

"Annoying. Tattletale likes messing with people. I'll punch her for you if you want." Bitch grunted at Taylor, who quickly waved frantically.

"Th-that's not necessary!" Taylor insisted as I prepared a shot of Stim. I need to get in contact with Panacea, we still need a renewable resource for this invention of mine, and we've not heard a word back from New Wave yet, even if at least Panacea has applauded my work.

"Just have Tattletale call me later. I need to speak to her anyway. I'll give you my number for her to use." I requested before leaning towards Bitch, gesturing for her arm, and she readily provided it again for the shot. "I can administer this to your dogs too, could you keep them calm?"

"No problem." Bitch whistled and the three dogs all shot to alert. "Angelica." At her call and gesture, the terrier hurried over and Bitch put her on her lap. I retrieved another, smaller dose of Stim and found a vein about an inch to the side of the spine at her scruff where I'd learned was a good injection site for dogs. We repeated the process with the mutt; Judas, and the rottweiler; Brutus, in short order. By then Angelica was scratching at her eye which was slowly growing back and Bitch had to order her to stop.

Following that, I went to my shelves and picked out a container of my stronger Surge Concentrate. "This is very strong. Just a little in water a day, and you'll get big and strong fast. You'll get stronger if you exercise while on it. Same for the dogs, or anyone you share it with. Just eat a lot of food, and be ready to get horny as a side effect while it's working."

"Just write that all down for Tattletale." Bitch took the former protein powder container and put it in the bag with her money. "Now turn me into a dog."

"As a warning, it is very painful. Do you still want to do this?" I asked as I wrote directions for the stronger Surge dosage down.

"I'm here. No point not doing it now." Bitch huffed.

"Fair reason. Tee, could you go fetch Rebel?" I requested of Taylor, who nodded and hurried out. She'd more or less unofficially become a crew member over the past few days, but unless she went out on a job that was debatable, so she had plausible deniability and nobody would say she was a full member. "Now Bitch. I am not joking. You will scream in pain. How far away should we put your dogs while you change where they won't transform from your power?"

"I'm not weak." Bitch growled, clearly misunderstanding.

"This has nothing to do with strength. Pantera is strong. She yowled so loud it hurt my ears. She thrashed from the pain. She also was fully Modded by Surge by then." I insisted, and Bitch visibly simmered.

"I'll leave them here. Take me to another room. Far as you can." With Bitch's acquiescence, I got to work on preparing a Primal canister. Shortly, Taylor entered with Rebel on a leash. Bitch and her dogs responded to the energetic and huge doberman that was the size of a full-grown man with a mixture of excitement and wariness as I took a blood sample from the rambunctious dog, mixing it with a specific enzyme that would allow the Primal to, instead of seeking the underlying DNA of the blood, to instead promote the sample blood's dominant genetics.

Giving the mixture a short time to set, when ingested this Primal would instead force a subject with strong mammalian traits to copy the source. In this case; Rebel. My examinations said that the resulting samples were no different from a crew member who would have become some sort of dog, so ultimately this would work to…I just thought of something.

Couldn't I do an inverse of this? Use Human DNA to turn animals into half-human hybrids? As my power slammed inspiration into my brain, I struggled to rein it in. I still had to finish with Bitch before I went into another fugue. "It is ready. Come." I briskly ordered, my power filling me with Anticipation to see if this would work as I felt it would, while also egging me on so I could get to work on my new project.

"Stay. She'll keep you company." Bitch ordered her dogs while gesturing at Taylor, who yelped at suddenly being pounced on by four happy dogs, Rebel having decided to join in on the pack's fun, to which she started laughing and squealing about. I led Bitch to the vault, closing the large door behind us, and gave her the Primal while gesturing into the cell.

"Get on the bed in there. Chug. Don't stop. You might die if you do. You might also want to undress so you don't ruin your clothes." Pantera griped about losing her robe several times since her transformation, and Bitch's clothes while dirty were obviously of decent quality.

"Fine." Bitch handed me her bag of money and Surge before she casually pulled off her jacket and tossed it at me, following with her shirt, which had nothing under it. Then she tugged off her boots, socks, and jeans, throwing them at me too. With her now buck naked and armed with her mutagen, she entered the cell, which I closed once I had dumped her clothes and goods by the door. "Just drink it?"

"Yes. Fast. It tastes like grape this time, but it's thick." At my words, she uncapped the canister and tossed the lid, quickly chugging the thick concoction down as I pulled out my notepad to make notes. Once she was done, Bitch belched and tossed the can to the side before she sat on the mattress. "It should kick in rather quickly."

"How fast-?" Bitch snapped her mouth shut, growling and wincing as her own transformation began. I was glad I had closed the vault door. Bitch had lungs on her, howling and yelping like she was already a dog as her painful metamorphosis ran its course. Like Pantera, it started with the fur which was mostly black with tan markings above her eyes, her snout, down her front, and on the tips of her hands and feet. Then came the bone and muscle structure. However, her skull took longer than Pantera's since dogs had much more elongated heads. It was over just about as quickly however, and I noted that with another subject it was consistent with speed despite the Stim barely having had 20 or so minutes to set in.

"Are you awake Bitch?" At my question, Bitch whimpered with an authentic dog whine and hugged herself, her new tail twitching, before her new floppy ears perked and her tail took to rapidly wagging against the bed. She bolted to her new paws, stumbling a bit before looking at me in an absolutely obvious expression of elation. She barked, really barked, before rushing to the cell door, rattling it, trying to open it while it was locked, getting a sharp whine out of her. "Can you still speak?"

"Yes. I...can." Bitch managed with her new mouth, whimpering some more. "Let me out." I did so, and she promptly grabbed me, licking my invisible face frantically as she hugged me. She then took a deep sniff of my neck and nuzzled me before I gently pushed her back.

"Bitch. Answer. Are you still all there in the head?" I stressed, and Bitch tilted her head with a look of concentration in her new chocolate brown eyes, creasing the fur of her face and moving the tan spots over her brows.

"Yes. I'm me." Bitch let me go and bent over to rifle through the plastic bag next to her clothes with her tan-tipped tail wagging, before standing back up and shoving the remaining cash into my arms. "Take it! You earned it." Bitch hopped around, her chest wobbling as she bounced with unrelenting energy and cheer.

"Are you sure that your personality hasn't been altered?" I had to get a clearer answer. If overriding with Primal was too impactful on the subject rather than simply straight Primal, I would have to add that to the warnings.

"Don't know, don't care. New Bitch is a Happy Bitch." Bitch replied simply, punctuating with some barks, before moving to get her clothes on. I helped her when it was clear her new paws and ankles were hard to work her pants up, and I used my hunting knife to cut a hole for her new tail. She also had to tighten her boots over her new paws. "I'll go home now."

"Wait, you can't just go through town like that. At least wait for nightfall, or have Rahj drive you there. We'll keep any secrets." I offered, and Bitch looked thoughtful.

"I stand out more, I could lead enemies to our lair. Take me home." Bitch decided, and I nodded.

"I'll arrange your ride home." I turned, and suddenly Bitch wrapped her arms around my waist, rubbing her face into my back with a crooning whine.

"Thanks." Bitch's words were clearly heartfelt, even if they sounded strangled or unusual to her if her straining a simple word meant anything. So I turned, and pet her on the head, getting a pleased reaction with her panting and her tail wagging that magnified when I scratched her ears.

"Not a problem." I opened the vault door, to find Pantera looking absolutely furious. "Pan-."

"BACK OFF HUSSY! He's mine!" Pantera growled as she yanked me away from a suddenly growling Bitch, who clearly took umbrage with Pantera's declaration.

"Pantera, what is the meaning of this." I demanded with effort to place what may be a tone of displeasure in my voice.

"This Bitch is marking MY territory! Get lost!" Pantera hissed, and I got between her and a charging Bitch, barely managing to hold them apart with hands on their chests.

"Time out!" I bopped them both on the snout, getting them to yelp. "Both of you. Calm. Bitch, ask for Rahj to take you home, keep in contact." I took out my notepad and quickly wrote down my phone number, tearing it off and handing it to her. "That's my number. Have someone call me if you want to talk about something."

"Sure." Bitch said before she growled at Pantera, who hissed back. I think Bitch was still adjusting to her new legs, because her hips seemed to be swaying with her tail as she walked towards my lab to get her dogs.

"Now. Pantera. What were you thinking, trying to attack a guest?" I demanded with my notepad out, writing down that Pantera's behavior had been odd since contact with Bitch.

"She was invading my territory! Deal, you're MINE! Nobody can have you but me!" Pantera declared heatedly, and everyone had to pause as she panted while clenching her teeth and fists. "You're mine…." Pantera said again, quietly, desperately, tears in her eyes.

"...Pan. Have you been having intense impulses since your transformation?" In response, Pantera grabbed the front of my coat and hoisted me up with her inhuman ease, growling deep and throatily as she glared into where she correctly assumed my eyes were.

"When I Marked you in your basement, I made you Mine. That Bitch just dared to fucking Mark you with her scent. It's maddening! You're gonna let me coat you in my scent with snuggles so she fucking Knows not to try and steal you!" Pantera then put me over her shoulder and stormed to her room, slamming the door before throwing me on the bed. I think Primal has unexpected psychological effects. I'll have to arrange mental exercises to work past them.


	30. Interlude 3b

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Beastmistress**_

[Thursday, November 11, 2010]

Rachel Lindt knew this wasn't normal for her.

She knew she never felt this good, full of energy, happy. She was snuggling her pack in the back of the huge van that Dealer said would take her home, and for some odd reason, she trusted him. She didn't know why beyond he held up their deal, but she implicitly trusted his word, Truce or no. "So is this the place? The old Redmond Welding place?" The man she vaguely remembered was named raw something asked, and she huffed as she hesitantly got out of the pile of her pack mates to look out the windows and across the street from the alley they'd stopped in.

"Yep, that's it." Rachel answered upon recognizing the battered old red brick building. She barked at her pack, who responded as quickly as they always did, but a new level of understanding was opened up by her transformation into a dog-girl that she found to be instinctive. "Don't tell anyone."

"I won't, but I'll keep it in mind if you need us for something. Just give us a call, Tats has been reliable and we'd be willing to return the favor, even if she is being paid." The man said as he waved her off, and she nodded before yipping at her pack and exiting the back doors of the invisible van with the plastic bag containing her Surge clutched to her chest. Rachel didn't like that seeing the inside of the van vanish when she closed the doors once they were all out had unsettled her enough to make her ears draw back.

She listened, waiting for the very hard to notice muffled sound of the tires on the ground to fade. As a human she would have never heard it, but now that along with a whole new range of senses were leaving her somewhat overwhelmed, which was part of why she'd snuggled into a pile of familiar sensations on the ride over. That and she wanted to feel close to her pack, more so than usual.

Rachel chuffed quietly to her three followers before poking her head out of the alley and sniffing as well as listening for any onlookers. Feeling sure the coast was clear as she didn't smell anything human -which was something she was quickly adjusting to- or hear anything odd, she bolted across the street faster than she ever remembered being able to, her pack following as she opened the rusty sliding bay door to let them in, then closed it behind her once inside.

Rachel moved to the stairs, and yelped with a wobble at encountering an unexpected obstacle. Her new paws and ankles, even with her boots drawn tight around the former so she wasn't carrying them, were extremely odd for stepping upwards. Rachel huffed and took it slower, getting used to her paw placement on the climb. Once she made it up the metal spiral staircase, she casually opened the door into her pack's den, holding it open for the others to rush in with joy at being back home to such familiar scents. Rachel just now noticed how much said scents made her relax, as musty or dirty as they might be.

"Welcome back." Came the familiar deadpan voice of Alec from over the couch. He must've been laying down to play his video games at the entertainment center since she couldn't see him, but saw one of said games playing on the very big television. His tone reminded her of Dealer. WIth this, Rachel realized Alec wasn't as much an asshole as it was he couldn't understand how to act. Like Dealer. "How'd it go Rach?"

Rather than just either ignore him or answer and go off to her room like usual, Rachel felt an uncharacteristic urge to be playful, her tail wagging as a grin spread across her muzzle. She stomped over to the couch. "Good." Rachel replied simply as she quickly rounded the couch by where she thought his feet were and plopped down on the unprepared boy's stomach, getting a gush of air and a curse out of the sociopath who was able to pause his game and try to push her off with his twig-thin arms, which was futile at best.

"Get off me you fat-whoa~...what happened to you?!" Alec changed his tune as he grabbed her tail and pet it, which made her grin even more. "You're an actual Bitch now!"

"Yep." Rachel simply replied, before getting off the skinny brown-haired pretty-boy and letting him sit up, before she plopped right next to him. Not wanting to bother talking right then, Rachel just relaxed as her pack gathered at her paws and Angelica jumped up onto her lap for attention. Alec didn't comment, going back to his game. Rachel was confused now. She felt odd. She didn't want to seclude herself in her room with her pack like she usually did. Rachel looked at the boy playing his game, and felt another impulse.

"Hey, the hell are you doing?" Alec commented without pausing his game this time, quickly eyeing Rachel as she had scooched over and was leaning into him, sniffing his hair and wrapping and arm around him in slight hug. "Not gonna complain that a girl's touching me, but what's going on in your head?"

"Shut up." Rachel quietly requested as she pushed her elongated face into the crook of Alec's neck. She felt comfortable enough to close her eyes and tried to focus on his scent, but wasn't too sure why. "I just feel huggy."

"Pfft, huggy is a feeling? Next you'll be feeling stabby." Alec paused, and looked down at her. "Do I need to get Lisa?" It was odd for Alec to display emotion at all, but such a question was not unusual if he thought something serious was happening.

"No." Rachel took a strong, deep whiff at the base of his neck, and hummed. "Well, now I can find you by smell." Rachel backed off of the sniffing, and yipped at her dogs, who quickly jumped onto Alec and the couch, completely ignoring his protests as they assaulted him with slobber. "Welcome to the pack." Rachel concluded that, if he wasn't able to look after himself properly, then he needed a pack. Every pack needed an omega after all, and Angelica obviously wasn't willing to fill the role with her injuries healed now.

"What?! Fuck no! I'm not a dog!" Alec glared at Rachel as she felt a tingle travel around her body, and then he looked shocked. "The fuck is up with your nervous system?!"

"What is going on out here?! My head is throbbing like a-oh. Wow, it went well I guess?" Lisa, or Tattletale when on the job, had come storming out of her room with a grimace of pain on her face. She was wearing purple pajamas as she had spent today doing something on PHO and talking to the Boss instead of taking advantage of the Truce. She was also the one to tell Rachel about Dealer's Primal and where to find him, and also put together the cash for her.

"Yeah. Got some notes for you from Dealer." Rachel answered as she left Alec to his fate of being playfully added to her little family, an odd compulsion that she decided not to question for now. She went over to the large table they used for general purposes as well as for planning heists and put the black bag on it. Lisa gasped when Rachel took out the Surge canister and then the two notes. "One's his number, the other is directions for this stuff."

"Holy shit! I only gave you a thousand bucks! How was that enough for…." Lisa scanned her, then her pack that was now snuggling a grumbling Alec with a wince. "All that?"

"He said that was too much, but I forced him to take it all. He earned it." Rachel explained with a challenging leer at her teammate, standing a little taller and looking her in the eyes.

"Damn right he did. He doesn't seem to know the value of what he just sold us." Lisa commented before reading the notes, and looked shocked at reading one of them. "Uh...okay. Just a teaspoon of this stuff in water or milk a day with regular exercise will be enough to get you jacked and maybe as stacked as that cat-girl within a week. You might also become a horny Bitch." Lisa joked, and Rachel quirked an eyebrow with a tilt of her head.

"Yeah? What of it?" Rachel challenged, and Lisa frowned with visible concern, and Bitch felt...irritated with her teammate for some reason. Whatever was bugging Rachel, Lisa winced and backed away with her head tilted to expose her throat more while avoiding eye contact, which made the rising hackles on Rachel's neck ease and an unsettling urge to _put her in her place_ was satisfied. "Uh...shit."

"Fuck. I knew you were messed up Rachel, but now you're really almost more dog than human. We're gonna have to figure out new boundaries." Lisa figured out with fear and concern in her tone and expression as she tried not to look directly at the dog-girl.

"Sorry. I don't want to hurt you." Rachel insisted, feeling upset with herself and whining a little as she smelled how scared her teammate was at her behavior, which flipped around into awe at hearing Rachel whine.

"Oh god that was adorable. Can I pet you?" Lisa looked eager to try, and Rachel...couldn't think of why she couldn't.

"...Only if you give scratchies…." Rachel felt slightly embarrassed at requesting scratches behind the ears, but when Dealer did it, all kinds of fuzzy warm feelings happened that she really liked. "Oh~..." Rachel cooed as Lisa reached up and rubbed her face, scratching the top of her head and behind the ears, sending her tail wagging rapidly. "That's nice…."

"Wow, you're so much easier to please now. You're actually Less of a Bitch now than before." Lisa teased with her vulpine grin spreading across her freckled face, getting a growl from Rachel that didn't last under the wonderful scratching she was receiving, making her start panting and relaxing. "C'mere Rach." Lisa hugged her, and Rachel gladly reciprocated, feeling warm and cuddly inside. "You're so much happier now aren't you?"

"Yeah." Rachel replied, giving the girl a sloppy dog kiss on the cheek, getting her to squeal and whine about dog-girl slobber as she retreated, making Rachel laugh. "So yeah, just gotta take this stuff and work out to get as big as that cat?" Rachel asked as she moved back over to the white Surge container, opening it up to look inside at the chalky white powder.

"Why are you-oh no. You are." Lisa groaned as she cradled her head, and Rachel looked back at her fellow villainess with a quirked brow. "Okay, not getting into that. Especially not after the busy day I've had. Good night." Lisa fully retreated to her room, and Rachel shrugged as she looked through the kitchenette that was part of the lair for a teaspoon, whatever that was, Lisa made it sound like it wasn't a normal spoon and she didn't want to fuck up Dealer's directions. Her search was stalled by her hearing someone coming up the stairs, getting first her ears and then her head to shoot towards the door and she froze as she waited for whoever was coming.

Upon seeing her pack's current Alpha entering the door in his full villain costume, she felt an unexpected urge to bare her throat and her tail went ballistic on her rear. "Hey Grue." Rachel felt her heart pound, she was confused. She crushed it down though, trying not to seem too eager to see him. "Know where I can find something Lisa called a teaspoon?"

"The eating kind or the-whoa-whoa-whoa! The fuck happened to you?!" Grue demanded as he pointed at Rachel accusingly, his billowing darkness dumping onto the floor as he took an aggressive stance, which made her growl but bend her ears back.

"I fucking went to Dealer. Got changed. Deal with it. What's a teaspoon?" Rachel tried to get back to what she was trying to do, but Grue wasn't having it if his aggressive stance was anything to go by.

"Hold on. You went to the Merchants and got mutated into a dog person?" Grue's request for clarification irritated Rachel, she already said that!

"Yes. Now either help me use this or fuck off." Rachel demanded as she patted the lid of the Surge and tossed the note at him. "Lisa got a headache and didn't tell me what a teaspoon is before she went back to her room."

Rachel simmered as she watched Grue read the short list of directions, and he made a sound of interest. "So is this just for you or all of us?" Grue asked as he took off his helmet to reveal a very handsome and attractive young black man by name of Brian, which sent Rachel's heart pounding and she tried not to think about how warm she felt thinking of her Alpha like that.

"It's a lot. Lisa and Dealer made it sound like it's really strong too." Rachel shrugged and tapped the container again. "Now can you help me find a damn teaspoon?"

"Yeah, it's actually a half-teaspoon. I think Lisa was planning to let you suffer the extra libido this thing mentions." Brian's words made Rachel growl and immediately decide revenge was necessary on the snarky blond girl. "Damn that's intimidating. Dealer does good work." Brian commented as he circled the island of the kitchenette and bent over to rifle through a bottom drawer. Rachel's eyes immediately locked on to Brian's leather-clad butt, and her ears bent back as she reined in a powerful urge to pounce and her core burned with desire. "Here we go. Hey, is it hot in here or something?"

Brian's question was about Rachel's sudden rampant panting, and she snatched the measuring tool from his hand and retreated to her room, having to double back and grab the Surge before continuing to flee to her personal bedroom, her dogs following upon sensing her distress. Rachel couldn't get inside with her pack and slam the door fast enough to let out a pained whine and clench her abdomen. She forgot she was near that time of the month, and now she was part dog. Realizing her situation, Rachel locked the door and practically collapsed onto her bed in a whimpering mess, desperately stripping naked to vent the heat her body was producing like a radiator.

Rachel moaned in a measure of relief as she tossed her pants across the room, and managed to growl and bark at her pack to stay away from her. She didn't want Brutus or Judas getting any ideas. "Just my fucking luck." Rachel grunted as she tried not to think of how much it hurt. More than usual. If this is her new normal, how bad would it be while using the Surge? She barely avoided trying to overpower her Alpha to sate her sudden needs. "I said back the fuck off Judas!" Rachel shouted as she kicked the excited dog back off her bed with her paws.

That sent a jolt up her hips and into her pelvis, making her whine and clutch her lower stomach, tears pricking her eyes. At hearing her door being pounded on, she snarled and barked angrily. "Rachel! I need you to come to the bathroom, and get away from your dogs!" Lisa shouted urgently, and Rachel, even as furious and on edge as she was, understood that some distance from her pack was a good idea right now.

She gingerly got back to her paws, panting the whole way and trying not to jolt her lower abdomen too much. Not caring for her nudity, she unlocked the door and carefully edged out, keeping her pack locked in her room. "What?!" Rachel demanded of the concerned Lisa and she glared down the hall at the two boys who looked on in trepidation, and again seeing Brian made her heat up and she barely restrained the urge to run him down and take what she needed, something helped by Lisa hooking her arms around her right arm and dragging her into the bathroom at the end of the hall.

"C'mon Rachel, let's get you cooled off." Lisa urged as she helped the stumbling dog-girl into the small tub after she had closed and locked the door.

"Fuck Lisa. This hurts." Rachel admitted to her fellow female, feeling vulnerable and needy as her abdomen clenched painfully in need. She yelped at the cold water when Lisa turned it on, and the blond could barely keep her in the tub.

"Shh, I know Rachel. I know." Lisa cooed as she pet and scratched the dog-girl, who was still panting and whining, but was thankful for Lisa's attention as the cold water slowly rose up, and she had to fight to keep from jumping out of the tub when it reached her groin. It was like ice to her. "Holy shit, I try to ignore this stuff when my power's going. Sorry. I would've noticed sooner if realizing you have a thing for Dealer didn't make me queasy."

"Shut up and keep scratching…." Rachel pleaded, longing for the physical contact of another. She'd much rather prefer male company right now, but she knew where that'd get her. "Fuck. I wanna fuck. It hurts. It'd stop hurting if I fucked…."

"No. Stop. Bad." Lisa looked a little green as she bopped Rachel on the snout. "No little Bitches getting sired today. Or anytime on my watch." Lisa's firm declaration made Rachel whimper and give her dog kisses on the cheek in appreciation. "Ew, stop that! I know you're all touchy feely now, but I'd rather not have my power tell me all the wonderful things I apparently need to know about the healing properties of your saliva. Which is...actually very impressive."

"Lisa. Either shut up and fuck me yourself. Or tell me how to deal with this." Rachel demanded desperately. She would rather have a male, but at this rate she'd take anything. No wonder dogs got to humping anything when they were in a rut or heat, this was unbearable.

At Rachel's demand, Lisa's slightly green complexion turned more red. "That's disgusting. Rachel, from what you've described about your power, maybe using it on yourself would help?" Lisa winced and clenched her eyes. "Ow~...that's all I can give you. I need to lie down now."

"I might break the bathroom." Rachel's observation made Lisa groan and nod before turning off the water, and helping the wet dog-girl back out of the bath, wrapping her in a towel so she wouldn't drip too much. They both gave powerful glares at the boys to make sure they would stay away as they went through the lair. Getting Rachel down the stairs was an ordeal since her tender pelvic region and her paws made descending the stairs painful and awkward. Rachel was thankful for the cold air of the former factory on her burning flesh.

"Okay Rachel, try it now that we're down here." Lisa took the towel off her nude teammate, and backed away. Rachel nodded, and closed her eyes, trying to focus on her power. Unlike her dogs, which resonated clearly, she felt a more dull, sort of pounding sensation when her power found herself suitable.

"Oh~!" Rachel moaned as she released her power, her body thrumming and pulsing. Soon she was snarling and growling as she fell to all fours, her hands bulging and bursting open into vicious leathery oozing masses as her whole body surged in size. Soon, she felt her aches and pains fade as what was once her body became a massive mobile cocoon for her new body forming in her core. Bitch panted as she continued to surge, growing more massive by the minute.

"Holy...shit…." Lisa uttered as she backed away, and Bitch looked down at her pack's Beta female with a vicious grin on her monstrously distorted muzzle as her tail whipped forward, now long and prehensile. Soon, Bitch was a spiny lizard-dog monster the size of a semi-truck trailer, easily outsizing any of her dogs when at full size. "Uh...Bitch? You good now?"

"Oh~ yes~..." Bitch's voice was craggy like her new spiny body. She stood up on her hind legs, barely fitting in the space without slouching at nearly 20 feet in height. She had to quirk her eyes at her massive chest, which was no longer home to breasts, but instead a pair of pecs as rough and spiny as the rest of her now androgynous form. She flexed her temporary meat-suit body with a sense of superiority, feeling unbridled power she'd never felt before and was intoxicating. Also, her heat was completely gone, hopefully when she got out of this meat suit she'd be over it. "I'm the Alpha Bitch!"

"Good, good. At least all that meat you're going to produce from that suit will help feed you and the dogs as you get bigger and stronger." Lisa commented, and Rachel huffed before she laid down to relax. Using her power like that was tiring, and satisfying unlike otherwise.

"Whatever, just measure doses of Surge for all of us." Rachel snorted, before closing her eyes, relaxing for a bit. She'd have to thank Dealer for this again. Sure, the heat fucking sucks, but it's an okay drawback if getting this powerful was the trade-off. She'd better separate Angelica….


	31. Chapter 23

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Enzyme 3.5**_

[Wednesday, November 17, 2010]

Last week, after I was freed from Pantera's amorous snuggles, I received quite the tongue-lashing from Squealer for apparently grossly underpricing my services. I believed my work was nowhere near worth several thousand dollars regardless, but since Squealer is the Boss I'll have to make sure my prices are more suitable in the future.

That said, when Tattletale called me last Saturday I updated my prices so she knew what to expect for future transactions. That aside, she called to thank me for my generous services and that the Undersiders would make good use of my work. She also gave me a comprehensive list of the psychological effects Bitch had suffered from my malpractice. She dismissed any of my apologies however, stating that Bitch was more than pleased with her new body despite the drawbacks.

Later that same Saturday night, the news channels covering the Undersiders' recent wholesale robbing of the Ruby Dreams casino, which turned out to be an ABB operation was an eye-opener on how modding Bitch had boosted their potential. Bitch had apparently turned herself into a towering beast over 20 feet tall with her power and ripped the wall of the vault open from the back of the casino before loading a nondescript van that drove off, and she then went on to also buff her dogs and nearly maim several Protectorate heroes if Mouse Protector and Dragon hadn't been enough of a bolster for them to chase her off.

This, along with our showcasing Pantera on Veteran's Day and the Surge Sabotage of Winslow was causing frantic concern to explode all over the media regarding my creations, even declaring me the new Nilbog in several cases, numerous radicals and reactionaries calling for my head. However, in spite of all the philistines demanding a Kill Order, the PRT released an official statement that I was no more dangerous than Blasto over in Boston. Which was rather underselling both of us, I've seen records of Blasto's work, he could easily take over Boston in a single night if he really wanted. Well, that and if he wasn't up against Accord and the Teeth.

I personally in this time, have been in a near-constant fugue I have rarely been able to get out of. Without school to interrupt me, or a lack of resources courtesy of Leet and his useful fabricator, I've been at work making miracles. How else would I describe dipping Stim injected rats in what I've dubbed Mannus; an inverse of Primal that forcibly mutates any non-human into a half-human hybrid? For some reason Uber and Leet thought I was referencing a game they called Dark Souls, but whatever that is it has no bearing on my naming conventions. Although I let them name a male one Splinter, for whatever inane reason they had wanted to.

Regardless of labels, I've been busy running the rats through various lab tests. All have proven fairly well that with their new heightened capacity to learn and even trying to talk; that they could possibly become capable minions or even people. If I also applied a regular regimen of Surge and Nutrigel, they'd maybe grow at least to feasibly human sizes if my theory holds true on their genetic potential. For now though, It would be too risky to let them grow unchecked.

Speaking of growth, we now had a self-sustained way to provide Nutrigel without also still having to spend so much resources on food through Leet. It was ingenious, and I'm surprised I hadn't thought of it, rather one of the pregnant women had. Breast Milk. Every woman who took Surge already produced it, and every pregnant woman produced even more. It literally had all the nutrients human beings and most other living creatures needed. Converting it to Nutrigel was practically a no-brainer, and now the crew could get their nutrition at convenient dispensers that were fed by culture vats that were filled with breast milk regularly.

Although, one of the pregnant women had requested if I could turn her into a cow-girl once she gave birth to her child. I hope this doesn't lead to any socially degenerative trends as she along with several women all enjoyed providing for the crew to a fairly unhealthy degree in my opinion.

Otherwise with the Undersiders having delivered a clearly decisive blow and giving us more inspiration, we have more or less finished mopping up the remnants of the ABB. The whorehouses have been abolished, their drug trades stopped cold, and their human trafficking put to an end, the traffickers themselves put to the sword. This also caused an influx of people to join the crew, both former ABB and victims, who also were eager to help us on our crusade against crime and villainy, using former ABB hideouts to expand our influence now that we needed territory against the encroaching Nazi threat.

Oh, and we had finally found Oni Lee. He was still in traction, had an infection from the deep bullet wound in his side that was being treated with traditional herbal medicine. He was in no condition to resist when we found him. We blindfolded him in his feverish sleep, treated him as best we could, and then dropped him off at the PHQ to hopefully join his leader on his trip to the Birdcage next week, again proving to the Protectorate we could get into their fortress whenever we wanted.

However we also found notes in Lee's safehouse that Lung was planning to leave town to recruit more capes before I'd defeated him. The notes were mostly of rumors that were unsubstantiated with research, so we decided to commission Tattletale to see if any of the rumors were true. The one of a potential bomb tinker in Ithaca up in New York was unsettling if it was true.

"Dealer, get away from the table!" Ordered Taylor as she managed to pull me away from my microscope viewing the possible outcome of hybridizing a potential bird-man with a Black Rat Snake. Which we had, of course, illegally acquired by 'poaching' from the Connecticut River Valley halfway across the state and placed it in a terrarium since it's an endangered species in Massachusetts and was the largest local species available. Some of the crew who went on the trip enjoyed the short camping weekend despite the cold. Taylor had named her Slinky.

"I'm making a breakthrough on a multi-hybrid. What is it?" Taylor's response to my question was to grab my invisible unmasked cheeks and pinch my face. Which with her Surge-granted strength, was quite painful and forced my full attention since I couldn't exactly dislodge her without possibly ripping my cheeks off.

"You haven't SLEPT! That's what it is!" Taylor's face was filled with frustration and concern, and I did note that I was indeed quite exhausted. Pantera's been out and about with the crew now that she's public knowledge and I don't have anything for her to test currently, and Rahj has been spending time with Howard now that he's gotten his speech back and was finally recovering, even if a few days sooner than I'd anticipated. So I guess without any of my immediate minions around with Taylor also having been spending time with her dad lately, I'd been neglecting myself.

"What time is it? Why didn't anybody interrupt me?" I had to ask, as I had thought I was important enough for not just my immediate subordinates to care about my well-being.

"Around seven in the morning, and because, apparently, you've turned into a freaky mad scientist turning rats into tiny rat-people! Nobody's been willing to get close to you and you've been randomly taking, without asking by the way, samples from people to test with by marching up to them and forcibly taking hair and saliva samples." Taylor's chastising rant did bring to mind a few instances where I approached a crew member, Sherrel once, and either wordlessly snipped some hair or swabbed their mouths with a q-tip.

"Progress waits for no-one. But it does wait for basic necessities." I acquiesced to my friend's demand to step away from the worktable, and suddenly felt dizzy, falling into Taylor who yelped and held me up. "I require some Nutrigel and sleep." I blearily noticed that Taylor's chest seemed bigger as she worked my arm over her shoulders, a bit difficult when she had a few inches on me.

"The fact most of that stuff is from girl's boobs is both gross but cool. I've been donating to it too." Taylor informed me with some measure of pride in her tone, and I figured that's why her chest was bigger, she was stimulating her glands. Made some sense. So tired. "So Dealer, what sort of plans did you have for today?"

"Hmm...besides more tinkering, but now napping, none." I was indeed quite tired, but it wasn't anything a concentrated shot of caffeine or caffeine pills wouldn't ward off.

"Well, if you think you could manage to stay awake...mind going to a show with me?" Taylor asked nervously, her face up to her ears glowing red as I looked slightly up at her. "I mean, we haven't really hung out, and Winslow is opening back up next week…." Taylor stumbled over her words as she led me toward the small dining area of the fishery.

"I understand. We haven't spent much time together as friends since I unmasked to you. If there are any interesting venues I wouldn't mind viewing them with you." At my agreement, Taylor beamed and seemed to bounce a bit more as she led me into where everyone got their nutrition in the fishery.

It was a former cafeteria that now more or less just hosted the massive oven Trainwreck made and a line of former soft-serve ice cream dispensers/mixers that were fed Nutrigel from the filtered vats behind them where I saw a few women giddily dumping liters of their harvested breast milk into. They were all exceptionally large in the bosom, likely from over stimulating their glands along with the Surge, the fact that a few of them were clearly pregnant further causing their chests to be quite big. I'd better warn them not to get too into being human cows, such a lifestyle was risky and might even lead to impeding normal activity or requiring breast reduction surgery to live more normally.

"What flavor do you want?" One of them asked as she beamed at us, wearing a white kitchen smock that strained over her chest, which was nearly as big as Pantera's, but considering she was barely 6 feet tall, they seemed even bigger and out of place on her frame compared to Pantera's muscular 7 foot frame. My intellectual concern for the woman's health was stalled at hearing her question once my examination of the hazel-eyed fair-skinned brunette was done.

"Flavors? I didn't make flavors for Nutrigel." At my query, the woman seemed all too pleased over something as she bounced in place, sending her chest melons quaking. How are those not hurting her back? Surge or no, there had to at least be ten pounds of flesh and fluid in those things, and at her body size? It was odd she wasn't hunching over at all.

"Nope. So We did! We took inspiration from various different soft-serve ice cream recipes and replaced the milk components with nutrigel, and using some more of our milk to help flavor it. It's like a jello ice cream if you let it set thanks to those dispensers also being mixers." The way she licked her lips and hummed seemed to make Taylor uncomfortable.

"I suppose I'll have vanilla if you have it." I looked over at Taylor who was seemingly staring at the woman's chest.

"I'll have chocolate Jess." Taylor idly requested, and with that Jess turned and went to the dispensers as Taylor led me to a reinforced cafeteria bench that was empty unlike a good portion of the tables. "Ugh. Andrew, I'm grateful right now that you're not a pervert thanks to you not having emotions, but I wish you didn't make stuff that turned girls into busty bombshells."

"Odd. I had thought you were pleased with that side effect." At my comment, Taylor blushed scarlet again as she tried not to look over at the cafeteria ladies while sitting down across from me.

"Not what I meant. I don't really want to talk about it right now." Taylor squirmed in her seat, and shortly the brunette returned with two bowls of what indeed looked like soft-serve ice cream, I feel she leaned over a bit much since her chest touched the table when she placed the bowls in front of us.

"Here ya go cutie." She seemed to direct that at Taylor since she was looking at her, and Taylor visibly turned more red as she squirmed in her seat even more until the woman left us be with a giggle and Taylor sighed in relief as she tugged on the front of her sweater.

"What is that about?" My question made her glare and scoop up some of her creamy chocolate Nutrigel.

"I said. Not now." Taylor hissed, and having spent more time reading before going to sleep on human interaction, I connected the dots.

"It is okay if you are gay Taylor. There is no harm in finding the same sex attractive." At my statement, Taylor spat out her food and looked aghast at me, as if I had just outed her nonexistent cape identity. "It is perfectly fine Taylor. It isn't like it's frowned upon since Legend came out of the closet."

"I'm not gay!" Taylor covered her mouth in horror and the cafeteria ladies who heard all started giggling much to her visible embarrassment, which turned to righteous anger as she glared at me. "You just had to push it. I'm not gay Andrew. I just...really, really like shapely girls."

"I had thought it was envy." I opened the seam of my invisible bodysuit around my mouth and took a bite. It tasted quite accurately like vanilla ice cream, if a bit textured like gelatin.

"W-well...kinda…." Taylor sheepishly admitted while biting her lip. "I wouldn't have minded getting a bit bigger, but from what I've seen of those girls, it's a slippery slope." Taylor nodded to the cafeteria staff before going back to her bowl of nutrition.

"Indeed, I have noticed. I hope I won't have to make something to reverse the consequences of their indulgence. I'll have Squealer talk to them, warn them again that Addiction comes in many forms." I quickly ate my bowl of vanilla gel, and once Taylor was done I took both our bowls up to the counter where one of the ladies took them to an old washing machine. I still don't understand how the city's utility companies can't trace all of our usage, Leet's work or no. "So where are we going?"

"I was thinking of seeing a play at the old opera house downtown. I heard they were playing Hamlet and the Pirates of Penzance sometime today." I nodded and moved towards the motor pool, but I stopped when Taylor grabbed my sleeve. "Nope. No cape nonsense. Today it's just Andrew and I." Taylor's odd insistence to not use convenient transportation was interesting, but I figured she had a point. I would have enough trouble staying awake sitting down for a show as it was, I'd be better off getting some exercise.

"Understood. I'll have to strip out of my costume, but I'm leaving the bodysuit under my clothes." If it came down to it, I didn't want to be left metaphorically naked if I got into a situation. We went to my lab and I took off my coat and hoodie, taking my mask off of my belt and locking them all in an unmarked trunk under one of my worktables. I put on a green turtleneck sweater from the weathered dresser someone had shoved in here for such a purpose and made sure my gloves were secured before checking that my cargo pants and boots covered me. "Alright, let's go."

I ignored how some members of the crew chuckled at seeing a headless person walking beside Taylor towards the pedestrian entrance. Once we were out of sight of the door guard, I pulled my bodysuit down and under the turtleneck so my head was exposed for what felt like the first time in a week. For some reason, Taylor flushed when I pulled out my shoulder-length red hair and pulled it back into a ponytail with a rubber band. "Okay Andrew, we've got the bods, but do we have the stamina to jog all the way Downtown?"

"The northern edge of Downtown. But yes. We should definitely be able to make good time at a brisk pace." With that we set off jogging towards our destination. With our consistent pace we would be making better time than if we took the bus. Brockton Bay wasn't a very big city after all, so we'd make it there within half an hour if we didn't take any breaks. "So how is everything Taylor?"

"Great! Ever since Dragon showed up and hired the DWU and several other labor unions in the city, dad's been constantly busy. A good kind of busy though. So he took the past couple days off to spend time with me. We went to the movies, ate take-out, it's so nice to see him happy again." Taylor replied as we continued our jog down Lord Street, planning to make a turn just before the Boardwalk to head towards the old opera house.

"I see. How is the tinkertech Dragon is lending working out?" At my question, Taylor looked confused, before her face lit up with realization and she grinned.

"Dad says it's like pointing at a problem and making it go away. He described the one that breaks things down into cubes being like an arc welder that takes things apart instead of putting them together. He says the amount of money made from recycling the smaller boats in the graveyard they've broken down will more than pay for the time and manpower spent doing it and still net Dragon some leftover income." Taylor described as we turned right a couple of street lights before the Boardwalk.

"That's good to hear. When do you think the boat graveyard will be gone?" The sooner a major indicator of the city's decline was gone, the better.

"No idea. But dad's optimistic it could be removed in a couple of months. There's a lot of junk there besides the boats and ships too, and Dragon's said the job isn't done until there's a clean shoreline." Taylor gushed with what sounded a bit like hero worship at mentioning Dragon again. Before I could comment on that, what sounded like a serious car accident happened somewhere up ahead and we both staggered to a stop. "Whoa, that sounded-."

Before Taylor could say more, Parian, riding atop a large stuffed bear, rushed from around the corner and was coming straight at us. At seeing us, Parian's bear lurched to the side and the Rogue barely avoided being slammed into the single storey old shops next to us. Which then led to us having to belatedly dodge into the street, and avoid a mass of metal hooks, blades, and all sorts of shapes slamming into the giant stuffed animal and shredding it to bits while tossing Parian into the street with a cry of pain.

I quickly pulled Taylor into an alleyway and began pulling my bodysuit up over my head. "Call Sherrel. I only have some Sick Spray and Air Yes on me." Before I could rush back out, Taylor grabbed me tightly.

"Are you nuts! That's Hookwolf! He'll grind you into burger patties!" Taylor frantically tried to restrain me, but I forced her to let go with my superior strength, making her wince.

"What sort of person would I be if I could help someone right in front of me, and did nothing?" I dryly replied, and ran out into the street. I saw Parian meekly crawling backwards away from the stalking wolf-shaped mass of metal that seemed to be savoring his easy victory. I interrupted that with a full-body shoulder tackle, sending the Neo-Nazi tumbling several feet and fracturing my right shoulder, it would heal quickly enough. "What do you think you're doing? Parian is off limits."

"Fucking piece of shit. Bitch was running a show in our turf and we're recruiting. Gotta get ready to put the Merchants back in their gutters." Hookwolf charged, and likely to his surprise, I didn't dodge. I punched his facsimile wolf head with a left hook to the cheek, sending the charging Changer around me and to the side, but he sprouted bladed hooks that caught onto my sweater, which was thankfully treated with Balcoat, but it still spun me around and almost tossed me to the street. "Who the fuck are you anyway?" Hookwolf demanded as his deformed face reshaped.

"Just a concerned citizen." I looked over at Parian, who was staring at me. "I'd suggest running for the Boardwalk and calling the PRT." She stared for a moment more before nodding.

"Thank you." Parian's tone told me she recognized my voice, and she used her power on her dress to help her up before she began a limping run for safety, so I turned back to the Nazi who likely already knew she was too deep in a relative safe zone to bother with thanks to me. But I wasn't. I was just spending time with a friend, now I have to wrestle a metal bladed wolf. Swell. Oh, hi sarcasm.


	32. Chapter 24

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Enzyme 3.6**_

[Wednesday, November 17, 2010]

Once Parian was away, I took the initiative to attack. I ran straight at the Empire cape with full intent to test how effective, if at all, physical trauma would be against the Changer. He responded in kind with charging at me, various hooks and blades sprouting over his wolf-like form. Ignoring the risks, I jumped into a forward snap-kick that bruised my foot through my reinforced steel-toe boot, but deformed Hookwolf's head and launched him up off his forelegs, and muscling through the pain, I span around and used my other leg in a spinning heel kick to deck him to the street.

My adrenaline along with a burst of emotions surged into me, and I crowed with joy as endorphins flooded me. God Damn did fighting feel good! I haven't felt like this since Lung-. Hookwolf interrupted my introspection by grabbing my thankfully covered ankle in his jaws, which hurt like hell despite they failed to penetrate my Balcoat treated clothes and boots, and he tossed me around like a chew toy. "Ow! Fuck! Would you stop that?!" I screamed after he slammed me a few times into the street, likely bruising me severely and jarring my bones.

"You're a fucking tough one. That'd kill most capes." Hookwolf said without even moving his mouth from my ankle. Ignoring the implications that may have, I kicked his possibly vestigial eyes in with my free leg, and kept stomping as his body started trying to draw me in with what looked like the inside of a meat grinder instead of a wolf's head.

Thankfully his last toss had me close to a fire hydrant, and I latched on, putting my whole body into trying to pull out of his hooked grasp. Of course it wasn't that easy. My Surge and Stim enhanced body was too tough to break with my Balcoat equipment over me, so my foot wasn't getting minced, but his all-encompassing hooked grip on my leg wasn't letting up. "Fuck this." I pulled myself up enough over the hydrant, and then wrenched open the port facing Hookwolf with my bare strength, blasting him in the face with pressurized water, and thankfully the cap too since the old thing was missing it's chains.

This was enough to stun him and slick his metal to the point I slipped my foot out. Taking the chance, I got back to my feet and started running down the street towards the opera house, ignoring his enraged shout. If I remembered right, there was a run-down old public park up ahead on the right. I looked behind me, and yelped as I barely dodged a pouncing once-again lupine metal Nazi. Unfortunately my haphazard maneuver barreled me into a rusty street sign. Fortunately I used the sign by snapping it and stabbing it into Hookwolf, who simply laughed and started drawing the metal in with ear-hurting metallic screeching.

While he was enjoying his apparent meal or something, I started running again, only to look back and barely manage to dodge Hookwolf's oncoming beastly charge, again, he really wasn't using his powers to their fullest. I mean, what idiot who can literally turn into anything keeps to one form for combat? This one apparently! Ugh! "Fucking do something different!" I screamed in frustration, spinning around and kicking Hookwolf hard enough to crack my tibia if the stab of momentary pain was any indicator. Following this, I backrolled away from spikes of metal that almost got me in the chest. "Weren't you some sort of fighter? Fucking fight me instead of doing the same thing repeatedly!" I mean seriously! I can't get this kind of emotional experience outside of fighting so at least make it worthwhile!

"You're a mouthy one. We're both trying to prod each other, this is how fights go! If everyone went all-out from the start, these things would be short and bittersweet. Try to savor it brat." At this, Hookwolf suddenly turned into a rolling ball of spikes like a mobile sea urchin, and I cursed as I dodged around him, barely, some of the spines tugging on my sweater and nearly pulling me under him.

"I'd savor it more if it was exciting like this more often!" I replied as I continued running further away from the Boardwalk. I'd rather not get arrested, even if I'd get busted out within minutes. So the further I drag this away from the white-hats the better. I actually felt a bubble of laughter work it's way out of me as I dodged the wannabe blender with a jump and ran towards the run-down public park I could see ahead. "What's the matter?! Miss leg day?!"

At my taunt, rather than reply verbally, Hookwolf turned back into a wolf and started gaining on me. He was fast, but seriously, couldn't he think of anything better? "You should really get together with some of your peers, test out your powers man! You're such a one-trick pony! Actually you're worse! You can't even do a pony!"

"Fucking shut up and get back here! Weren't you complaining about the fight getting boring?!" Hookwolf demanded as he pounced at me, but I jumped over the shallow irrigation ditch the old park had running around it, and the Nazi landed too close to the edge, slipping into the little indentation with a loud rumble. "Fucking fight me you headless bastard!"

"Now that we're off the streets, sure! Come and get your bone doggy!" I taunted with a laugh as I ran towards the swingset which was the nearest piece of playground equipment. Rusted to hell as it was, my weight and inertia was enough to get it moving when I jumped onto it at speed, and spun around during the upswing to face Hookwolf as he got out of the ditch. With an invisible smile I could feel stretching my face, I ducked into the downswing and used the swing to launch at the surprised villain with a flying side kick. YMCA tae kwon do don't fail me now!

Of course, being sent flying at speed with an outstretched leg at a mass of metal was inherently a stupid idea. One I learned far too late as I felt my left leg try to snap when I made contact, causing me to scream in pain as Hookwolf was thankfully launched back into the ditch. "You fucking crazy kid! At this rate you're gonna break yourself before I even get any fun." The Neo Nazi called up as he climbed back out of the ditch again, leering down at me as I grit my teeth against the pain.

"Sorry, kinda flying by the seat of my pants here." I admitted as I forced myself to my feet and backpedaled, my regen already having healed my fractures, but I was still tender and gasping with every other step as I backed away from my opponent.

"Welcome to cape battles runt." Hookwolf charged and I turned tail to run towards the little carousel. At this point I belatedly realized I stood no chance against Hookwolf in a straight fight, or even a running battle. Unlike Lung, oddly enough, even if I had Air No I doubt anything I've made would directly aid me in this situation. I jumped onto the carousel and jumped back off the other side once it spun around, forcing Hookwolf to run around it and buy me some more time.

Time I used to take a deodorant can of Sick Spray out of my left thigh pocket and sprayed it behind me as I ran. Aside from causing him to give an irritated growl it did nothing, like I figured it might, and I tossed it behind me as a waste of time. This time I was running towards the monkey bars, and jumped through the gaps head first, rolled inside back to my feet, and repeated out the other side, buying me more time to fish out my Air Yes, and wonder how this could possibly help me.

Then I remembered when I used my Air Yes as improvised bombs against Lung, but back then Lung was my opponent and his own fire was the trigger. No luck here then. I growled and sprayed it in front of me, helping me breathe better since each lungful was more oxygenated than usual. I really wish I ignored Taylor's plan to walk to the opera house and just took a van. Then again, I wouldn't have been able to rescue Parian if we did. Shit. I'm really just this unlucky aren't I?

Out of options and not really seeing a way out of the situation, I figured I'd be better off facing the villain directly and try to buy time for help to arrive. Just great. Why couldn't I fight someone more human? Like Cricket? Or even the fucking valkyrie twins! I'll take twin hot supermodel giantesses over this! At least then Sick Spray would've ended the fight instantly! "Do you even fucking breathe?!"

"Like I'd give a fucking coward like you a chance!" Hookwolf calling me a coward stung. It's not my fault I'm still human! Well, superior human now, but still!

Figuring it was pointless to tire myself out by running, I turned around and slammed the can of Air Yes into Hookwolf's open jaw. I then got to experience the pain of having a firework go off in my thankfully protected hand as I blacked out. I weakly came to with my vision blurry and shaking, my whole right arm feeling like I put it in a hydraulic press, and the rest of me felt like I was sprayed down with a machine gun. The ringing in my ears was also unwelcome as my head throbbed and vertigo made me feel like I was falling into the ground.

I just smashed a can of volatile concentrated compressed oxygen and butane into a mass of ferrous material. I'm a fucking moron. That definitely made a spark and ruptured the can. Ow.

I hissed as I weakly used my left side to push myself up, and saw the rear half of Hookwolf laying several feet away, the front half having been blown apart since I suppose his form was mostly ever-shifting rather than solid. Before I could even think he was dead, the wolf haunches began shifting, and formed a shirtless caucasian man with a shaggy head of blond hair and blue jeans. All he had hiding his identity was his metal wolf mask, and I could barely make out that his eyes were blue. He was a Swastika tattooed Nazi Aryan stereotype.

"Well. You've got more balls than I thought kid. Shoving a fucking bomb in my mouth and blowing us both up? You've earned some respect, but that was a stupid move." Hookwolf then exploded back into a mass of metal and reformed his wolf body, as if he wasn't even hurt at all. Probably wasn't, unlike me.

"Well. Can't blame me for trying." I winced as talking hurt too, I hurt all over, but I kept my eyes open as Hookwolf pounced, about to finish me off. But then I yelped as instead something dropped on the Empire cape like a ton of bricks. "What the fuck?!" Ow~ my jaw….

"Sup boss! Looks like ya need help!" Came the loud voice of the hairy wall of flesh that had fallen from the sky. Before I could get a better look at whatever they were, they jumped off of Hookwolf and hoisted him over their head and tossed him into the jungle gym with a loud metal crash. "Booyah! Today this pig gets revenge on wolves for eating my brethren!" He turned around, and I gawked at the sight of the black-furred boar-man that smiled down at me with his tusked maw and gleaming beady black eyes. "Sub boss. You look like shit." Came a familiar if slightly distorted voice as he snapped the waistband of the large jogger pants he was wearing. Funny enough, even though he was a boar, he was quite muscular.

"Howard?! What? But, you were still in the infirmary!" I did have a couple cans of Primal waiting that Rahj had requested for Friday, but this was too soon for Howard to be-.

"Fucking pig! I'm gonna-!" Hookwolf was interrupted again by another descending mass of flesh, this time of an Indian Rhino-man, who bellowed and began handily slamming Hookwolf around like a sack of potatoes from his hind legs with just one arm, before throwing him into the swingset, which the changer got tangled in and temporarily tied up with.

"Aw yeah! Today's the day! How, get over here!" The rhino, who I guessed was Rahj, demanded. At that, Howard ran to his friend, and they bumped chests like football players and cackled as they pointed mockingly at Hookwolf.

"You just got Bopped and Rocked by Bebop and Rocksteady~!" They declared boisterously together before laughing and patting each other on the shoulders.

"I feel like I'm missing something here…." They were way too amused for this to be unplanned, were they referencing something?

"I did not just get ganked by two living references…." Hookwolf growled as he shredded the rusty chains, and looked up, getting me to raise my eyes to see the _Hoorah_ overhead, multiple Jeepers aiming shotguns likely loaded with special munitions at the Nazi. "This isn't over."

"Best get runnin' home little doggy! You don't wanna mess with us, or the Protectorate whenever they decide to show up." Howard declared, and I noticed that he was...different. He wasn't the way he was before the head injury. I felt sad for a moment, before Hookwolf left at a four-legged sprint, and suddenly I couldn't feel anymore. I wish my last emotion wasn't sadness, it was unpleasant. "You're fucking coated in blood kid. C'mon, let's get you to the boat."

Howard handily picked me up, causing me to hiss in pain, especially from moving my right arm. I hadn't noticed until he mentioned it that my clothes were soaked in my own blood. The explosion must've hit me so hard my skin ruptured in places. I'm lucky I survived. The _Hoorah_ lowered down and dropped a gangplank that my lieutenants quickly climbed up as the shrill high-low siren of the PRT approached. The ship must have cloaked as Armsmaster and Assault arrived on the scene, but hadn't reacted to us hovering up and away.

"Oh thank god!" I gasped in pain as Taylor broke through the crew on deck and clutched at me with sobs, even if I was still being held up by Howard. "You idiot! I told you it was dangerous!" Taylor squeezed me, and I feebly tried to push her away, but the blood loss had weakened me, even if my regen had sealed my wounds, I was going to need Nutrigel and water if I was going to recover properly. However, the way Taylor cradled my head to her chest and hugged me, I realized she needed this, so I closed my eyes….

[Pick Your Poison]

I jolted awake, recent memory saying that I was in a combat situation. However, as my bleary senses cleared up, I remembered I was rescued by my associates. I must have passed out from my falling epinephrine levels and exsanguination. I examined myself and my surroundings to find I was in a hospital smock and resting in the infirmary with an IV attached to a blood pack. Why do we have blood? The errant thought aside, I looked over at the nearest chairs to see Taylor and oddly my mother sleeping, leaning against each other.

"Finally up sleeping beauty?" Hearing Howard, I turned my attention to the still barely dressed boar who lumbered in. "Yo! Y'all come in here! Kid's awake!" Howard's voice was very loud and carrying, a far cry from his former more laid-back tones.

At his shout, Taylor and mother woke up, but most importantly a buxom amourous black panther wearing green pajamas bolted into the infirmary and pounced on me bodily, shoving my face into her cleavage. What is with women and putting my head between their breasts? "Deal~! Oh thank whatever gods may or may not exist!" She then started peppering my face and hair with kisses until Taylor and mother pulled her off of me.

"Told everyone to stop worrying. Nobody listened." Rahj commented as he entered along with the rest of the capes of the crew. I quirked my head. I felt this sort of turn-out for my well-being was a bit much.

"I'm his mom. It's my job to worry when my son nearly dies." Mother stated seriously as she put her hands on her hips. She'd finished her Surge regimen recently, topping out at nearly six feet and looked almost twenty years younger. I believe the combination of Stim and Surge might have restorative, anti-aging effects. I'll have to test a sample of my mother's blood and compare it to notes from a sample she gave me while still using Surge.

"You gave us a scare kid. Please don't do that again." Sherrel stated earnestly with a tone of command. "But, thanks to you, Parian's come to us for protection. We'll keep her here until the Protectorate can be assed to actually protect an innocent civilian."

"Good to know my carelessness has resulted in us gaining another ally." I nodded with an attempt at sarcastic wit, which got a few chuckles. Success.

"But seriously Deal. You couldn't have picked a worse day for this kind of shit." Skidmark commented ruefully as he gestured for everyone to move around, and when they did I realized why Trainwreck and Mush had kept to the back. Held between them, was an enormous cake liberally coated in blobs of white frosting and covered in 15 candles.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY~!" Chorused everyone in the infirmary, even some of the other patients who were woken up by Howard earlier. They must've been filled in earlier.

"...Huh...I forgot that was today. It is still the seventeenth, right?" I managed to sit up with some help from Taylor and mom as the two hulks moved the cake to my lap.

"Barely. Only got a half hour before tomorrow." Trainwreck informed me as he and Mush moved back, everyone taking a deep breath. Oh. Right, tradition. I sat there and let them all get the bland generic birthday song over with, and then on que with the ending, blew out the candles. I wish I could feel again.

"Cake time!" Cheerfully declared Howard, who produced a large knife and messily tore into the cake, ripping off a sizable chunk of the fairly oversized dessert and grabbed his piece, messily picking it up bare-handed and taking a bite as he hummed at the flavor of the red velvet cake, getting a smack upside the head from Rahj. "What?" Howard asked in honest bewilderment at everyone leering at him.

"I'll take him outside." Rahj said with annoyance as he pulled the boar-man away.

"Before the pig got things out of order, we have some presents." Mom said as she handed me a wrapped package. "I understand if you're too tired to open anything tonight. Just know that we're glad you're okay son."

"Thank you mom." I accepted her gift and set it aside, also accepting her hug and kiss on my brow.

"But, if anyone's gonna give you a great gift tonight, it's gonna be me! I had to fight Mouse Protector for this!" Pantera gushed as she reached into her cleavage and pulled out a grey handkerchief. She pulled it open, and I blinked. It was an authentic signature from the Protector of Mice herself. "I had to wrestle her! She wouldn't give me an autograph without actually wrestling her for it. I think she had perverted motives since she just kept grabbing my boobs and butt. Easy otherwise, but dang was she flexible."

"I was originally just going to consider us going to see Pirates of Penzance a gift, but since that really blew up on us, I didn't have a backup plan. So I got a loan from Skidmark and got you some pet turtles." Taylor gestured towards a table that had a small terrarium with four red-eared slider turtles. "I figured it was something you would like. Considering what you've done with the rats we've been catching for you to experiment on."

"Do you seriously not know what you, those two out there, and those two gamer friends of yours have done?" Mom bemoaned at Taylor as she put her face in her hands. "Dear god. Next we need a gang named the Purple Dragons and Coil to turn out to be Shredder, his mercenaries secretly the Foot Clan."

"What are you talking about mom?" I quirked my head, and everyone over 20 all shook their heads with pitying expressions aimed at Taylor, Pantera, even Trainwreck, and I.

"Kid, we've gotta get you exposed to some quality cartoons. Probably get some more ideas going too." Mush insisted, and everyone all agreeds that us 'poor, neglected, uneducated' children needed to watch something called TMNT.

"Well, don't know about the rest of you, but I'm tired. Out! Leave him be." Mom insisted, shooing everyone out of the infirmary, following them. Taylor took my hand and squeezed tightly, an odd expression on her face before she grabbed the cake platter and left me a slice on a paper plate before taking the rest away.

Now it was just me and Pantera, who put my new treasured possession back in her cleavage, before she climbed onto the bed, straddling my hips as she…. She's kissing me on the lips with her eyes closed. I do not know what to do…. "Happy birthday. Just one more year. Stay cute handsome." Pantera winked at me, then left me alone with my slice of cake. Strangely, I think I would have preferred if she stayed. I feel oddly cold…though that might be the blood loss.


	33. Interlude 3c

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Jongleur**_

[Wednesday, November 17, 2010]

They were watching her. She could feel it. It always sent a thrill through her to know all eyes were on her, and wherever she was, it was her show. "Huzzah! I, the mighty Mouse Protector have arrived evildoer!" Katherine declared boisterously as she stood triumphantly with one of her grey boots planted on the back of the mugger she'd just captured, only now having announced she was even around by throwing her round shield and teleporting directly over the thief.

"Mouse, could you please be more professional?" Hannah asked fruitlessly with exasperation in her voice as she jogged up to the grey and slightly knightly armored heroine who had gone far too over the top in taking down a simple E88 mugger who had been dumb enough to ply his trade Downtown, his victim eagerly snatching her purse back up and spitting at the thief before walking off. If she didn't want to stick around for the BBPD that was on her, at least several of the onlookers would likely give a statement.

"Missy~! You need to lighten up! What is being a hero but being a beacon of hope for the people?!" Katherine declared dramatically as she drew her tinker-forged arming sword and posed with it aimed skyward. "Fear not citizens! Mouse Protector has defeated this insufferable fool! May your purses and personages be at ease!"

Hannah groaned and facepalmed as she shook her head, while the small crowd she'd drawn all gave a mixed reaction of humor, interest, or annoyance. Kat LOVED it. "Just zip-tie him and leave him for the BBPD, we have a patrol to get back to. One you've already interrupted by...wrestling, that Pantera girl." Hannah's blush was barely visible above her bandana, but Kat grinned at seeing progress in pecking away at her old friend's meager resistance to her way of thinking.

Also Pantera has TRACTS of land. No way she was going to pass up a chance to feel THAT up. "She wasn't breaking any laws, and hasn't been seen doing any crimes last you guys told me. Also she just wanted an autograph for her boyfriend. Plus she's hot." Kat whispered the last part as she sheathed her sword and knelt down to restrain the skinhead.

"Wait, what boyfriend? She just asked for your autograph. Didn't help you put on grey lipstick and kissed the handkerchief either." Kat cheered inside at noticing Hannah didn't deny that Pantera was attractive.

"Oh, she has it BAD Missy. She's head over paws for some lucky guy and trying to endear herself to him. He better be worth it if someone like that is after him. Also she smelled like a guy, so she's been spending huge amounts of time with one." Kat finished tying up the criminal and then started walking with Hannah again. She faintly remembered why she went independant after she left the Wards. Patrols were BORING! At least normally, when she was with Hannah, or Assault, she made her own fun. Shame he was married and had a kid on the way.

"You can Smell that? I thought she was a little ripe, but then again she's with the Merchants. Reformed or not, they don't exactly have the facilities to boast cleanliness as a priority." Kat snorted, clearly seeing through Hannah's prejudice. But speaking of the Merchants….

"So when is Halbeard gonna let us use that Surge stuff the PRT got from that Winslow school? I want to be stacked like that hourglass cat-girl." Kat grinned with her visor-hidden eyes sparkling at how Hannah choked and nearly stumbled at her bold declaration.

"That is NO reason to want to take dangerous body-altering tinker concoctions!" Hannah's fluster was so cute, Kat just loved how adorable her old friend was.

"I beg to differ. Besides, didn't several of the girls the PRT interviewed while they were out of school admit to their female interviewers that they enjoyed all the benefits Surge gave them?" Kat didn't bother mentioning how happy all the 'victims' clearly were with their rapid super-puberties getting over with and having amazing results. Shame they were all too young.

"Where did you get those reports?" Hannah's tone told Kat she already had a suspicion, so she shrugged and figured it best to admit it up front, even if it meant she lost a valuable source of information.

"From your desk silly! You keep everything so organized it's easy to find things. And it's BORING on the Rig! Nobody has any sense of humor besides you and Assault." Kat wasn't just pestering Hannah while they were in her office together. She was also skimming over the papers on her desk and occasionally taking a quick peek at lower files whenever Hannah stepped out. "Also, why are you giving Pantera a full parahuman threat assessment? She's just a modified human."

"Because she's been observed displaying significant feats of physical prowess to earn a higher rating. As for being modified, the the PRT's upper branches don't like the idea of us becoming a super-soldier project. More than we are anyway. But the Chief Director says once our RnD can confirm that it's more-or-less safe, she'll greenlight it considering what we're up against." Left unsaid was that Hannah disapproved of her Independant friend reading official PRT/Protectorate reports, but both knew there was little she could do to stop her, aside from refusing to let her into her office.

"Nice. I hope I can get in on that without having to sign anything. It's not like I'm gonna go villain." Kat theatrically shuddered at the concept. "I mean, what would I rebrand as? Murder Mouse? So tasteless." Also being a villain was no fun.

"You know that isn't-." Hannah was interrupted by a thunderous crash from down the street, and the two heroines sprinted towards the disturbance. While Hannah got on her radio to the replacement Console, Kat's superior power-given speed and stamina let her quickly outpace the military-themed hero even though she was wearing a full set of tinker-made armor. She and Chevalier were friends after all.

Kat ran around the corner where the continuing ruckus was coming from, and exploded onto the scene with her sword raised high. "The great and fabulous Mouse Protector arrives! Have at thee evil...doers…." Kat was stunned. She was looking up the armored skirt of a giant Playboy supermodel, who along with her twin sister, paused in their respective sword and spear thrusts at a retreating throng of Merchant-colored men to look behind and down at her from their staggering 50-foot heights. "S-stripes…." Kat flushed, a trickle of blood leaking from her left nostril. Curse her high sodium diet and her weak nasal vessels.

"Fenja, did you forget your underarmour again?" The spear-wielding Menja demanded of her twin sister, even through her full-face helm, Kat could tell Menja was not pleased with her sister over wearing just her panties under her short armored skirt.

"Who says I forgot?" Fenja's voice was lilted with mischief as she turned with her sister to face the comparatively diminutive heroine, her own sword and shield at ease to match Kat's. "I can see the blood down your chin from up here. Like what you saw?" Fenja swished her hips and Menja smacked her over the head with a growl as Kat bemoaned that they were villains.

"Sister, do Kaiser and I need to have another talk with you about you're questionable tastes?" Menja threatened, getting Fenja to visibly pout despite her wing-themed armor as Hannah finally reached them. "You two stay out of this. The filth and beasts have finally shown their true nature. Know that we will not let this stand."

"Indeed. They attacked a business that we have sworn to protect, so now the Empire will be dealing with our mutual enemy." The twin Neo-Nazi valkyries turned back around and hurried through the rapidly abandoned streets with their immense strides. From the looks of their irritated searching and the sounds of their grumblings, the men they were after had given them the slip, not too surprising.

"What are the Merchants thinking? They might have gotten the drop on Lung and Oni Lee, but the Empire is a whole different beast." Hannah, having barely arrived at the end of Kat's encounter with the twin giantesses only caught that last bit. "Was it really the Merchants?"

"Huh?" Kat looked at her friend, trying the get the glorious upskirt of the giantess out of her mind for the moment. "Uh, maybe? They were wearing light blue, but that's all I got before my eyes trailed up Fenja's skirt. She wasn't wearing any armor underneath." Hannah groaned as she facepalmed and Kat sheepishly sheathed her sword. "So, uh, should we bother chasing them?"

"No. We're on foot, and those two are considered to be at least as potentially dangerous as Lung was. Considering how much force and collateral damage they could cause. Also, between us, only I could maybe hurt them. Maybe. And that's if I'm not planning on sparing a whole street explosive wrath. I'll be sure to add public indecency to Fenja's list of crimes." Hannah sighed as she went back to reporting to Console and Kat decided to ignore her friend's conversation.

Instead she approached the battleground that was, in fact, in front of a trashed jewelry storefront. But why? Why would the Merchants attack a store like this? It flew in the face of their mission statement and their actions since their reformation. Even if they did backslide, why stick around? The Merchants were known for hit-and-run guerrilla tactics and ambushes, not openly doing something this stupid. Not anymore.

Kat mused on what she'd read up on the former drug-pushing gang as she examined the scene. The store was just trashed, nothing seemed to be stolen. Oddly enough for a wednesday afternoon, the owners and staff seemed to be out. How did the Twins hear about this if nobody was here? "Militia. Doesn't this seem fishy?"

"Hold on." Hannah said that into her headset, and then jogged up to her friend who had come out of the ruined shop. "What is it Mouse?" Kat appreciated that Hannah was able to tell when she was being serious right now.

"Nothing seems to be stolen. All I see is the product smashed and tossed everywhere, not to mention the windows and displays. The owners, managers, staff, nobody seems to have even been here. So who tipped the Twins off? Also, why would the Merchants even do this? It flies in the face of their usual behavior." Kat bringing this all up made Hannah look around and give a few nods, even sniffing the air which was acrid from the fire damage to the shop which was suspiciously well-contained.

"Are you thinking this is a setup? A ploy to set the Empire against the Merchants?" Hannah asked seriously of her friend, who nodded. Kat had seen this enough times in various cities. Someone wants their competitors gone, so sets them against each other. Simple. Effective.

"Seems similar to a case I was involved in down in New Mexico. The Maras didn't like two other gangs in their drug trade. So they killed a well-known enforcer on both sides, planted fake evidence, and let it boil over while they sat back and watched. Of course, local FBI were able to figure it out, and since all the gangs have capes, gave the info up the chain. Since I was in the area chasing Ravager, I helped out. Not pretty." Kat shivered. MS-13 was just plain monstrous. The fact that there was a chapter in Boston didn't help her nerves.

"But in this case, there don't seem to be any deaths. Which is even more suspicious really. I'm going to ask who owns the building and why the shop was closed so conveniently. Good deductions Mouse." Hannah pat Kat on the shoulder, but she sighed rather than revel in the praise like usual.

"Doesn't matter. Those two ran off before we thought about this, and now the Empire will be gunning for the Merchants. Unlike with the ABB where it sounds like it was just a ton of ambushes and them being completely outgunned, the Empire will be the aggressor here, and it'll be a full-blown war." Kat didn't like wars. They hurt people like Hannah. They hurt people everywhere.

"Don't I know it. This is exactly what we've been trying so hard to prevent. But now it's out of our hands. The best we can do is try to intervene wherever we can, maybe we'll even get more reinforcements." Hannah mused as the two heroines leaned against the wall. Being the heroes on site, they had to wait for the BBPD and PRT to arrive to brief them on the events and their suspicions.

"Or, we could do the smart thing, and join the side that tried to extend an olive branch. Even if it was with a threat." Kat blurted out. She'd heard what was going on in Brockton a good bit before Hannah actually contacted her for help. She did worry about her old friends after all.

"Kat, we can't. They were, and still are, a registered VIllain Gang." Hannah bemoaned, and Kat scoffed. Her friend was just being petty and rigid.

"One that's clearly turned themselves around, and also shown everyone in the city up repeatedly. Hannah, you can't tell me you think they could possibly lose against the Empire with their numbers and advantages?" Kat also kinda wanted to ask if they could turn her into a mouse-girl, or a rat-girl. Secret identities were kinda bogus in the grand scheme of things, she'd learned from her vagrant heroism. Only reason in her eyes nobody attacked New Wave was because they had a united front.

"Well...maybe? If the Empire had all of their capes clustered together, there'd be blood in the streets, and the Merchants would just throw themselves into a meat grinder." Hannah sighed, cradling her head in her hands. "I'll make a suggestion to the Director and Armsmaster, but I don't expect anything out of it. This wouldn't be the first time a Protectorate branch makes an Official Truce with villains to bring stability, but it sets a bad precedent."

"We already have the Endbringer Truce proving not all villains are assholes. The fact the Merchants have only attacked you guys in retaliation just means they look after their own. Then there's the fact they helped New Wave when they asked for it." Kat knew about it because Panacea was not at all hiding that her boosts came from the Merchants, and the fact the hero family was even more active and visibly close-knit was a good point in the Merchants' favor.

"You've already persuaded me Katherine. You can stop playing Devil's Advocate." Hannah sighed in resignation. "Look, you don't have to stay here if you don't want." Kat frowned. She read between the lines.

"If you want to be left alone you can just say so." Kat teleported away before her friend could try to change her tone, and the independant hero sighed as she looked down on the city from atop the Medhall building, which was the tallest skyscraper in the city. As was customary, Mouse Protector placed bricks or other knick-knacks laying around vantage points in the city as soon as possible. The innocuous grey brick near the corner of the roof would hardly be noticable.

Glory Girl was such a sport, putting it up here for her.

With little fanfare, since she had no audience, Kat moved to the edge and climbed up so she could sit with her legs dangling. She had to fight the impulse to jump. She always did. With a shudder through her body, Kat counted back from ten, then squeezed her perch with her hands to help ground herself. Katherine suffered a slight case of acrophobia ever since her Trigger Event. But she loved the view, so she always tried to use these moments to distract her from her problems.

Such as the eidetic memory and sensation of being here, and thousands of other places all at once. Her teleportation power was touch-based on an object she Marked. She had an eidetic memory and phantom sensation of each and every thing she Marked. One instance was on a train somewhere in the southwest USA. One was being disected somewhere in the CUI, which was another alarm bell to her concerns. Another even somehow made its way to the bottom of the ocean.

That last one was tempting to use to end it all, finally stop feeling stretched across everything like an endlessly tightening spider web. "No Kat. No. Bad Mousey. They need you." Everyone needed her. She had to remind herself that. It wasn't narcissism if it was true. She would be their fool. Their distraction. Anything to give herself purpose and give them hope. Also living was still fun.

"Kinda dangerous being on the edge like that." Kat barely managed not to throw herself to her doom, and yelped as she instead fell backwards onto the roof, and found herself looking up at a very shapely and fairly short glowing and floating white outline of a woman, who snorted at the heroine's little spill. And maybe her little squeak of a yelp, but Kat would take it either way. "Well, my Ex once said I could have anyone fall before me. Didn't expect it like this though." Kat laughed at the tease the slightly older woman, if her voice was any indicator, sent at her.

"Well I swing both ways, but you'll have to buy me a drink first." Kat declared before using her inhuman flexibility and stamina to spin to her feet from her awkward position, and placed her hands on her hips. "Huzzah! I am the beautiful and friendly Mouse Protector! You're the former villain Purity, right?" Kat extended a hand, and the Ex-Nazi looked at it for a moment before hesitantly shaking the hero's armored hand. It was rather warm, but she had gloves on.

"Yes." Purity seemed hesitant, but after the handshake ended, she didn't simply fly off. "And you're the veteran Independant Hero Mouse Protector." It wasn't a question, and Purity crossed her pure white arms over her chest. "Hey. Could you...give me some advice?" Kat blinked under her visor. It wasn't common, but she'd had other capes ask for some pointers, so she nodded. "My...Ex, is asking me to come back to him-."

"Don't." Kat firmly declared with a scowl that made Purity visibly flinch. "He's not worth it. He's garbage. If he's your Ex, it's because either he's an asshole, or things didn't work. It won't work if you go back to him." She wasn't expecting relationship questions, but Kat's been burned enough times to know it wasn't easy to let go of one, especially if it was fulfilling.

"Well...let's also say that he has...power, over me…." Purity vaguely hinted, and Kat could tell, that the woman was barely keeping calm. She approached Kat in desperation, she's looking for an out. Kat has seen enough of this in her travels to know where it's going.

"Take your children, and run. If not to Canada, then to the Protectorate, or even the fucking Merchants. Don't let Kaiser win." At seeing Purity shoot backwards defensively, Kat knew her shot in the dark was right on the money. "The only reason he's begging to have you back is because he knows he's screwed if they bring their A-game. Hell, if I didn't have friends in the local Protectorate, I'd have joined up with them myself. They may be extreme, but I've seen much, much worse."

"You're disturbingly insightful for a ditzy show-woman." Purity growled and approached. "I'm not confirming anything, but if you say anything-."

"I'm still breathing for a reason babe. You just keep your kids safe. If he knows your civ id, then go off the grid with the Merchants. They're your best bet locally if you want to keep them as your kids. And none of the racist BS. I can tell you're not really like that." After Kat's interruption, the two women stared each other down, until as expected, Kat ruined it. "If you're gonna stare, either come and have a feel or buy me dinner."

"Ugh. Sorry, I'm not Je-Fenja. I don't go for other women. Why don't you find yourself a good man?" From Purity's tone, Kat knew she was speaking from wistful experience.

"Because girls can have fun without any happy accidents or bundles of joy." Kat blew a raspberry at the former villainess before teleporting to her current bunk at the Rig, and dropped herself into it, deciding to take a nap. She'd had enough suicidal introspection for one day. WIth that, Kat threw her sensations into one of her Marks that was anchored behind a waterfall in Oregon, and let the soothing sounds and cleansing feeling of running water carry her away.


	34. Chapter 25

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Enzyme 3.7**_

[Saturday, November 20, 2010]

Things have certainly taken a turn for the unusual since my recovery, which barely took a couple nights of deep sleep and sustained bedrest. Sure I had suffered extreme blood-loss, but thanks to some crew members having type O Rh D negative blood donating to the clinic at the fishery in case of such an emergency, I was fine. Especially thanks to Stim apparently making the assimilation of new blood into my body easier. Was the Stim in our systems getting stronger over time? I seem to be recovering even faster than usual. Not to mention blood samples I've analyzed of Pantera this morning compared to more recently treated subjects barely shows any differentiation in her immune system between her T cells and the Stim cells while the newer subjects are still divided. The blood wasn't even degrading outside her body anymore. However that could be, it was fascinating.

The potential ramifications of my Stim aside, thanks to Howard and Rahj, or now known as Bebop and Rocksteady, the rest of the crew has become more open to the idea of Primal. Since thanks to it, those two were able to mutate and mobilize in my defense within minutes of leaving the fishery. Mostly though they seem along the lines of requesting me to turn them into the closest approximation to a fictional character as possible. I may be a miracle worker, but for even half of these requests, I would have to get specimens from multiple zoos and wildlife preserves across the world. Unfortunately, several of them were willing to offer to do so.

I'm not looking forward to trying to keep a menagerie hidden within city limits. So I asked that anyone willing to take the random risks come forth, since I could use people like my assistants as a basis as well. On that front however, there has been little success, since often the animal I deduce they'd turn into isn't one they'd prefer, or they aren't willing to leave it up to random chance. Tie-Dye wasn't one of them. He called them all cowards, and said to give it to him.

He's a Chameleon-man now. His eyes were unusual however, instead of staying pure human or chameleon, they were human with the ability to shift more fully in their sockets. Also, once he'd transformed, he asked if using Balcoat on his scales would ruin his new ability to change colors. Considering that Balcoat is nearly clear when dry, I assumed no. The following escapade of fishing him out of a vat of Kevlar-based Balcoat and attempting to dry him out without freezing him into a short-lived statue was rather harrowing according to those aiding me. Especially since he at least had the intelligence to jump in nude and the women were gaping in intrigue according to Squealer. I suppose it was odd to them he had no external genitals anymore.

I offered him room on my immediate staff due to his eagerness and how much he's aided me, but he declined, preferring to stay as head of the Jeepers, which were hundreds strong by now. That was all shortly after I went to my lab after my bedrest was over this morning, but then I was literally dragged into a van with Pantera, Taylor, and Sherrel. Sherrel drove us through the Docks to Uber and Leet's hideout, and now I'm lying supine inside a complex medical machine. "Explain again, why I am being given a comprehensive scan?"

"Because your mom demanded it, and we're worried kid." Sherrel said from her spot standing by my friends to the side, while Uber and Leet worked the console of the fairly impressive scanner. "She said once you were out of bed, you were getting properly checked out."

"Just be glad my scanner here is my latest prototype, so it'll work until I need to upgrade it to the next version." Leet declared with a cheerful tone. Ever since Sherrel and Trainwreck had helped him figure out his Specialty, he'd been working constantly. "I can't believe my power specializes in Prototype Technology."

"Get over it dude, you've been gushing about it for weeks now." Uber snarked as he worked the console. "This thing's pretty fast and impressive, it'll get a full scan of Deal's whole body in several modes in just a few minutes. Also he didn't have to get undressed either." Uber then chuckled. "Sorry you didn't get a show girls."

"W-what?! Th-that's not why we're here!" Taylor declared and I could guess from her voice that she was flustered.

"Speak for yourself, I was hoping for another strip show." Pantera whined, and she hissed as I heard a meaty thud. "Watch the tits!"

"Girls, stop arguing over your bae and calm down. I swear, if you two get any more frisky I'm forcing you to stay in a room alone with each other to work it out." Sherrel sternly declared, getting more sputtering out of Taylor and an interested mewl out of Pantera. "How you doing in there kid?"

"The machine's slab is starting to make me ache. Leet, next time, at least install padding." I would live, but I am sure anyone with less fortitude would find this extremely uncomfortable. Also the scanning lights were fairly bright and unpleasant to get directly in the eye.

"Oh yeah, right, cushions. I was wondering what was nagging at me." Leet scratched his head, and shortly a chime rang, the machine then pulling me out of the scanning chamber on the arm of the slab, which I promptly got off of and cracked my back, starting on a full range of stretches. "Okay! Let's see what your insides look...fuck…." Leet's shocked and worried tone got the ladies rushing over to him and Uber cringed.

"Shit...that'd do it." Uber declared, and pointed out something to the girls, who all gasped when the men whispered about it to them. I don't appreciate being left out of the loop regarding this since it involves my health, so I jogged over and looked at the incredibly lifelike and further detailed scan, specifically they were looking at a cross-section of my brain.

"What is it?" At my query, Uber pointed at a fairly large oddly shaped object in the center of my brain, which was coiled through it and then nearly touched another object in the top center of my brain. "What are those, tumors?" I believe if I was not emotionally dead, I would be having an existential crisis about now.

"Yes, but not really. Those are your Corona Pollentia, and your Gemma. Considering how Powers work, I'm guessing this one is your Gemma." Leet pointed at the coiled one at the center of my brain. "It's firmly lodged right into the center of your brain from top to bottom."

"English please?" Pantera demanded, and the others nodded in agreement to her statement.

"Your Corona is likely this one up here, on the edge of the Limbic system. Then the Gemma, when it appeared, likely burrowed right through it and seems to be in contact with every part of it from the curve to it. Said system is responsible for all basic emotion response as well as basic urges and drives such as procreation and reproduction. Eating." Leet stressed the last one, and everyone all looked guilty as they looked at me.

"What? I consume nutrition daily." Sure, I only tangentially experienced hunger or the urge to seek out food due to feeling tired or weak, but I still consumed enough to get through the day.

"But only after someone reminds you! God, you're lucky you haven't died! Fuck!" Sherrel declared as she growled at herself, and I had to think back. She was right. Outside of eating at established times it was expected of me, such as breakfast when I wake up or lunch at school, I never felt the need to go out of my way and eat.

"I don't get it. If it's directly interfering with his emotions and this isn't a normal placement for a parahuman, where does the Corona and Gemma usually end up?" Taylor questioned with intrigue, to which Uber gladly pointed at the back of the image of my brain.

"It's often in the back of the brain, rarely it's in the front. Most Master and Thinker capes have the Gemma in the frontal lobes, but generally it's in the back with the Corona. Seeing both in the smack dab center like this is...just...scary." Uber grimaced. "We've hacked the PRT and seen files of parahuman brains enough to see a pattern, and this is unusual."

"So my powers have direct control of my emotions and other urges. I had already deduced this. Are we done here? I still have work to be doing before school imposes itself on me come Monday." I really do have much work to do. The lab rats have taken to their rigged-up audio books well, and I still had to see if any actual gains had been made to their comprehension skills. Not to mention I have to see if I may have accidentally made the Merchants into unaging-.

My thought process was hijacked by Sherrel grabbing my head and forcing me to look her in the eyes. "Dealer. We are going to try and get you help. There's not much that can mess with brains, but we're going to ask around. I think it's time we contacted New Wave about the debt they owe us, at least get Panacea to have a look at you even if she doesn't do brains."

"That is not necessary, but she was supposed to provide a resource so manufacturing Stim was a less morally questionable practice. That would be a good idea if we at least pursue that angle." Sherrel nodded and let me go, before she pulled out her personal cell phone and hit the speed dial.

"Skids. I need you to-what is it?" Sherrel changed her tune instantly and looked frustrated. "Skids, baby, calm down, and tell me what's got you all panicky." Sherrel demanded with a soothing coo to her voice.

"I swear, Squeal's got Skidmark by the balls." Pantera chuffed in amusement, and whatever Skidmark told her, Sherrel had to take a deep breath.

"Okay...well then, uh...let her know we're good for this evening, and that we may also have more heroic company. Stress it's not the Protectorate, and assure them that it was already planned…. Yes babe, we're finally calling in New Wave's favor. I'll tell you the details later." Sherrel then smiled beautifically and hummed. "Sounds like fun baby. I look forward to it. Love you." Sherrel husked and kissed the receiver before hanging up. "Buckle up kids, we got work to do!"

Sherrel practically skipped towards the van she'd taken us here in, and Pantera purred as she grabbed me and a blushing Taylor by the shoulders and guided us towards the van as well. "See you guys later, and Squealer, don't forget we're still on for that party tomorrow night!" Uber called out to us as we climbed into the van. Wait, what party?

[Pick Your Poison]

Somer's Rock was a filthy place, more so than the places the Merchants operate out of these days. We were a bit early, but considering we're the main group tonight, it was expected that we be the first ones here. Although…. "Why am I in charge of this?" I asked my companions as we carefully watched the road in the early evening, the sun was still in the process of transitioning into twilight and then into sunset, but for now everything was still well lit, and it would be rude for a bunch of villains to enter the establishment and be seen on a long street of small businesses. Also the giant cat, boar, and rhino were big standouts. At least Taylor went home.

"Squeals said it's because you can handle it, and I know you can." Rocksteady reaffirmed from his custom place up front that took up a third of the driver's cabin, the passenger seat removed and moved behind him, where Bebop sat, eagerly munching on a bag of potato chips.

"Also she's getting railed right now and doesn't wanna bother." Bebop gruffly commented, before Rocksteady reached behind him to swat him on the head. "What?" He was now wearing jeans and a black leather biker vest, Rocksteady up front wore the same.

"Dude, it's one thing if a girl says it, it's another if a guy says it." Pantera rolled her eyes and huffed as she crossed her arms under her bust, which stretched her reinforced shiny black rubber catsuit even tighter over her bosom. Where did Parian get the material for that? Leet, right. She was incredibly skilled to have made that within a few days, it even had a covering for Pantera's tail and had a leather hood with a built in mask and holes for her ears. "Don't worry Deal, we've got your back. We're three brutes with brains. Well, at least brains for two of us."

"The fuck you say?!" Bebop snorted and got a boop on his boar snout from Pantera, which immediately enthralled him and he started poking himself on the snout once she removed her finger.

"Case closed." Pantera huffed, and Rocksteady groaned as he rubbed his face. Bebop really wasn't the same since the brain injury.

"Alright, enough fooling around. Coast Is clear." I exited the back doors of the van, my mask now on since this was business. My three lieutenants dutifully and quickly followed, closing the doors as I walked the short several paces from the alley next to Somer's Rock and entered the dilapidated establishment. I looked over the filthy pub, eyeing the long table in the center that was obviously for meetings such as ours, even if it was draped in green felt. A girl about my age approached from the bar manned by identical twin brothers, and held out a notepad.

" _I am deaf, please write your order."_ Hm, an establishment filled with deaf people. I suppose that was a rather clever arrangement. I wrote down that some cola would suffice for me, and moved to the long table as my companions, having been similarly approached by the girl, also wrote orders. I sat at the end of the table away from the entrance and facing it. Pantera scooched a chair next to me and practically draped herself on me.

"Pantera, this is inappropriate behavior in public." I stated before Rocksteady managed to stop Bebop from just plopping his porcine rear into a chair, and berated him as he helped lower the muscular boar-man into the chair, which creaked. Thankfully these old chairs were made of strong wood and good craftsmanship, likely from the pub's founding.

"Babe, you're about to have a meeting with several beautiful girls. I have to make it clear that you're off limits." Pantera has clearly been spending more time with Sherrel if she was picking up some of her speech patterns. Her lecherous behavior being more refined was also proof.

"One of them I humiliated in public, the other I have heard rumors is gay, and the other is an older woman with children. A married woman at that." I reminded, and Pantera whined as she removed her arms and bosom from my shoulders to more properly sit in her chair. Shortly after that affair and Rocksteady had taken his seat opposite Bebop, the deaf waitress delivered our drinks. "Is it really a good idea to drink strong liquor before a meeting?" I questioned my male lieutenants, who chuckled as they sipped their dark drinks. "At least Pantera has had the sense to order something non-alcoholic." Pantera purred as she tongued up her glass of heavy cream.

"Mrrrow~...that is good Irish cream." Pantera cooed as she sniffed the strong-flavored dairy product and then her ears perked. "Heads up boys, company's here." Pantera declared, and the two bruisers put their half-empty glasses down to look at the door. Shortly, Panacea, now wearing her new fashion of living wood armor accented with mossy growths and random flowers entered, followed by…. "Me-yow~! Somebody's been hitting the Surge!"

"You like, little kitty?" Victoria Dallon asked winningly as she posed in her place floating a couple inches off the floor. She'd easily attained 7 feet in height, and was just as shapely as Pantera and nearly as muscular, but she was practically naked with how she was obviously wearing one of her old leotards and it barely covered her chest, and all she had saving her modesty since it took the lion's share of the white material was an obviously make-do miniskirt/yoga shorts combo, but that did nothing to hide her six-pack abs and her waist. "I have to say Dealer. Me becoming a knockout thanks to you makes up for you knocking me out in the street."

"I am pleased to see heroes making use of my work. If it means you are more able to do your good deeds than before in any way, it was all worth the effort. Where is either Brandish or Lady Photon? I had assumed that at least one adult member of New Wave would be in attendance." Had I known that they would be coming without further backup, I wouldn't have brought Bebop. He's a doer, not a thinker these days.

"Technically Dealer, we are, Physically, adults. That Surge of yours is basically a fast-track to adulthood without actual aging, it also practically de-ages adults who take it. Mom's faint crow's feet are gone thanks to you." Amelia Dallon said as the deaf waitress approached, and she wrote orders for both her and her sister, before intending to sit at the opposite end from me, but I held up my hand.

"You'd best come sit closer. We'll be having more company soon. It so happens that as we were planning to call you here this evening, someone else called us here this evening. I hope you don't mind acting as extra assurance they behave." I gestured them closer, and the sisters looked at each other, suspicion clear on Glory Girl's exposed face, and they hesitantly moved closer. "Now then, let's attend to business so you don't have to risk being seen with us for too long."

"I'd usually agree with that, but fuck what people think, you're the good guys now." Glory Girl declared with a huff, and her sister smacked the back of her head, whipping the girl's shining golden mane of hair a bit.

"Language Vicky! But yeah, I'm of the same mind. You guys have been working hard to get the city back on its feet. Nobody's tried that in a long time, not since the Brockton Bay Brigade decided to be idiots and became New Wave." The bite in Panacea's voice made Glory Girl wince, but clearly this was a topic that the family of heroes had been going over lately since they left it at that. "Now then, we, I especially, owe you a debt. Name your price, but nothing illegal."

"Alright, would you be willing to analyze Bebop and I's brains? I understand that you do not tamper with them, but getting an outside opinion from an expert would be appreciated." I gestured to my boar of a lieutenant, who simply blinked in surprise.

"That's it? I don't think this counts, but sure." Panacea peeled a finger of her right gauntlet back and touched Bebop. "Whoa. His brain is all out of balance, nearly a sixth of it seems way younger than the rest. Also, what's the stuff constantly running through his body? It's amazing."

"That would be Stim, something I would also like to talk to you about, since I could use your help making more of it. That's later however." I stated as I took out a pen and notepad to write down her comments on Bebop's brain.

With a curious hum at my response, she got up and approached me, so I took off my mask and peeled back my bodysuit to expose my chin, which she touched. "Holy shit...that's just...fuck."

"I get that a lot recently. Any suggestions?" I have to consider that when the world's greatest healer is shocked about your condition, it just might be incredibly serious.

"Have a nanny on hand at all times? How are you even functioning without the basic needs and drives of a living being? I really wish I could do something about this, but if I do; you could end up not being the same person you are now." Panacea let go of my chin and sighed as I covered back up and put my mask back on.

"Well, Pantera is practically my nanny, so at least I have that covered. Let's move on to-." Pantera suddenly yanked me to the floor, and a deafening cacophony of thunder and crashing ripped through the establishment from the front. I struggled under Pantera who adamantly held me down, even as she yowled in agony from the impacts of several bullets. After several seconds, the hailstorm ended, and a vehicle burned rubber as it sped off.

I tossed an unconscious and bleeding Pantera off of me, her suit held, but the blood seeping up out of her collar was indicator enough that she was possibly in danger. I got to my feet to see the waitress was torn to shreds, the other members behind the bar similarly viciously turned into mincemeat. Turning back towards the table, I saw a shuddering Bebop being partially held up, and alive by a shaking Panacea. "Oh god. Oh god. No. No." I followed her gaze to the others.

"No…." Rocksteady was bleeding out on the floor, Glory Girl was unconscious and her cheeks were torn open, and I was filled with a maddening and blinding rage at seeing an E88 armband was tossed at the former pub's doorway. "So the Truce meant nothing? Fine. Panacea, save your sister and my friends, then get out of here. It's time the Empire went the way of the Third Reich." I picked up Pantera, and held her out to Panacea, who shakily reached out to her.


	35. Chapter 26

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Enzyme 3.8**_

[Saturday, November 20, 2010]

We moved quickly, Panacea stabilized Pantera with barely a touch, finished fixing up Bebop, and then after I set Pantera against a wall, I helped the boar and hero with our downed friends. "No. No! They've lost too much blood. I can't-." I interrupted Panacea's panic over her sister and Rocksteady by tossing what was left of the waitress's corpse at her and she yelped. "What the fuck Dealer?!"

"Here's some blood, whatever she's got left." I then trudged over to the bar and hefted up the two dead males and dragged them over as I saw Panacea with hands on both her sister and the dead girl, and the body of the late waitress seemed to be melting into Glory Girl as she rapidly restored to full health, and snapped awake with a gasp. "Now for Rock." I dropped the dead men next to my not-yet-dead lieutenant, and Panacea, having gotten over her bout of squeamishness, quickly used what was left of the mush that was once a girl on Rocksteady.

"W-what the fuck?! What happened?!" Glory Girl screeched as she rocketed up into the air of the destroyed pub and surveyed the situation in shock and horror. "Amy why are you using-?!"

"I had to do something! They're dead, you're not. It's Triage." Amy stated as the last of the dead girl was absorbed into Rocksteady. "I can't believe this. I thought this was going to be safe."

"The Empire happened. They hosed the place knowing we were in here. The whole point of Somer's Rock was to be Neutral Ground. Now they've violated it. If we weren't going after them before, we definitely are now." I declared as I moved to the gaping hole in the front of what was once a business and poked my head out to listen for sirens.

"Oh god, what happened?!" At hearing a woman's voice, I turned and examined a fairly short woman in a decently fancy gray pantsuit with a baby in her arms and a fairly chubby young man around my age in a gray casual shirt and blue jeans looking at the scene with horror.

"The Empire's gone too far. That's what happened. They must have had a heavy machine gun to do this. I swear, if I get my hands on Purity I'm going to make her suffer for this." That was the only conclusion I could draw. She was the one we were supposed to meet up with besides New Wave, and the Nazis decide to spray the place before she arrives? It was obvious.

"W-w-wait! I had nothing to do with this!" The woman shouted at me with indignant rage. "I told nobody I was coming here! I was coming here to ask for protection from the Empire, not break the Truce!" Wait. Hold on a second.

"Purity? Why are you out of costume? And with kids?" My currently adrenaline-fed brain was catching up with me as I calmed down, and let logic take over. "I see. It is best that you arrived late. I hope you didn't plan on bringing your car, wherever it's parked, we need to get out of here. Now." I turned inside to see Panacea had gotten Rocksteady healed and on his feet, if woozy and supported by Bebop, and she was just finishing up Pantera. "Everyone, change of plans. Dogpile in the van. Now. Bebop, I hope you can still drive."

"Uh, Rock's the one who...fuck, okay." Bebop, with Rocksteady's arm over his shoulders, rushed out of the ruin, and I could hear the high-pitched sirens of the police. Unlucky first responders.

"Follow them, get in the van they show you. You too heroes, you being seen here would be bad." I directed everyone, urging the civilian ID of Purity and her accompanying children towards the alley with the van, which was thankfully mostly untouched. "Hurry." I calmly urged as everyone dogpiled in and squeezed to make room, before I got in last and slammed the doors of the invisible vehicle shut. "Drive slow Bebop."

"Um. Uh...I...I can't…." Bebop squealed in distress at trying to focus on the complex task, which woke the baby and Purity shushed her and bounced as much as she could in her seat squeezed between the boy that came with her and a groggy Pantera. "Boss, I can't remember how to do this! I can barely remember how to tie my shoes right. Or that I don't need them."

"Bebop. Calm. Turn the key." I directed, and the tinker van rumbled as it started up. "Now, hoof on the wider pedal, press down on it. Once it's down, pull the lever on the side of the wheel towards you and pull it all the way down." Bebop did so, but turned on the windshield wipers instead of putting us in drive. "Wrong one, push it back up, and pull the other one." I would've done it myself if I could drive, Purity had no idea where to go and an infant to keep calm, and Rocksteady was barely awake. "Come on Bebop. You can do this."

"Okay. Three, two, one, let's jam!" Bebop suddenly tossed the van into drive and slammed his hoof on the gas, launching us out the other end of the alley and he jerked us left onto the road, just barely missing a police car that was about to pull into the alley we'd left. "WOO! Now I know why Rock loves the driver seat!"

"Can you control your damn pig?!" Purity screeched as she hugged her baby to her chest and the boy helped keep them stable as Panacea and Glory Girl did similar for Pantera and Rocksteady.

"Yeah! At this rate he's gonna get us all killed!" Glory Girl then screamed as Bebop ran a red light and narrowly avoided multiple cars heading both ways. "Mother fucker! Slow down!"

"I think I'm gonna be sick…." Panacea muttered as she clung to Pantera and lurched at a rather vicious turn Bebop made that had us skidding on the rear double-axles as he turned right towards Downtown.

"Bebop! You're going the wrong way! Turn us around!" I demanded, and the boar-man snorted and laughed like a maniac as he rammed a utilities truck off the road with us barely feeling it, and he pulled off a sliding U-turn on the same road before gunning us back towards the Docks. "Okay, so long as he doesn't cause too much mayhem, we should make it to the Fishery. If we somehow get separated, the old Fishery in the Docks is our main headquarters."

"The Fishery? No wonder nobody has found you guys yet. Max was planning to buy out several properties in the docks for more storage, but several buildings, including the Fishery, are still owned by some British maritime company overseas, and for some reason aren't willing to sell." Purity cooed at her baby, and sighed as she slumped into the more-aware Pantera. "Christ. I knew getting away from the Empire would be rough, but this is ridiculous."

"So long as-right here Bebop! So long as we maintain our cover, we should be…." I halted my thought process and couldn't comprehend the sight while Bebop pulled us to a stop.

The Fishery was in ruins.

Someone blew up the front of the building. I could see several crew members desperately digging into it, likely to save comrades. We could see through the gaping hole into the motor pool and I noticed that Squealer's monster truck was gone, and the _Hoorah_ was as well. I could also tell that the area of the motor pool that was crushed was where….

My lab….

My Lab.

MY LAB!

All coherent thought fled me, I was barely aware of bursting out of the rear doors, sprinting towards the ruins. The high-low pitched sirens of the PRT were coming, I didn't care. I had to salvage something. The rats were in there. My notes. Everything. I ignored the cries of pain of my comrades, they would be fine, I modified them to be fine. I jumped and navigated through the twisted piles of corrugated steel and broken metal infrastructure towards where my lab once was. I grunted with exertion as I grabbed the fallen wall of my lab, and practically yanked it and part of the collapsed ceiling out.

I rushed in, immediately grabbing my binder filled with the fine details of my creations. I also grabbed the can of Primal I'd made first thing this morning along with Tie-Dye's which I had sitting in the small fridge, as well as a sealed aluminum canister of Mannus, both went in my thigh pockets. I then began dumping everything I would have to leave on the floor, including the dipping vat of Mannus and then the biodiesel farm. I went to the cage where the rats used to be contained, and I examined how they chewed through the bars in just enough space for them to escape. No matter, I could get more later. I then tabbed open several cans of Air-Yes, and prepared the thermite molotov jar I'd prepared just in case the worst happened.

"Freeze!" I paused at the demand that came just as I exited the hole in my former sanctum, and turned my head just enough to see Miss Militia on the other end of the former motor pool aiming a rifle at me. "Get down on the ground." I could see PRT pouring in through the no-longer functioning bay doors behind her, taking aim at me as well with their rifles and foam sprayers.

"Certainly." I casually chucked the jar of rust and aluminum dust with a bit of vacuum-sealed white phosphorus behind me, and dove for the ground even as they opened fire. The resulting blast, being both concussive and incendiary hurt almost as much as when I blew myself up, but despite its size, my prone position with my feet facing it saved me from the majority of the blast, flames, and shrapnel. Militia and the troopers, not so much. I staggered to my feet, checked that my binder was safe, and limped towards the pedestrian entrance, pausing when I saw Panacea and Glory Girl rush in through the shredded building front, who also slowed down at seeing me.

We only spared a moment to stare, before they rushed past me towards the groaning hero and troopers, so I took the wordless opportunity to keep limping towards hopefully safety. My stride evened out as I went, and I looked around at the swiftly abandoned former home of over a hundred people. The clinic was boarded up with a mound of trash, likely by Mush. They probably couldn't get the pregnant women or injured out so fast, so they decided to barricade them so we could come back for them. The cafeteria was a shambles, only a couple of the dispensers were missing, none of the vats of course.

I grit my teeth as my power urged me onward with feelings of loss and vengefulness. This was our Home. Someone figured out where we were and have simultaneously tried to kill me and mine at Somer's Rock with the Empire, and now someone's destroyed our headquarters. There's only one slippery asshole left in this city anyway who could've arranged it all.

Coil.

I would have his head on a pike for this. I'm calling Tats as soon as I get out of this situation, and I'm going to see if I can't help her arrange his untimely demise. Fuck, this was going to be rough, bad enough we have to deal with the Empire, now we-. I ducked as I heard gunfire behind me, and I grabbed a workbench that still had unfinished Jeeper equipment on it, pulling it out and dumping it on it's side to make a shield as I roadie-ran towards the pedestrian entrance.

Once in the cramped alley, I sprinted out of the tight squeeze, and barely ducked to avoid a stream of containment foam. I zig-zagged across the small access road, dodging several bursts of the capture method, but some splashes got on me, weighing me down. I tossed off my coat, ditching my slingbow and arrows with it to prevent getting foamed, even tossing it at an oncoming stream to buy me time as I made it to the alley across from the Fishery.

I rolled at hearing a hollow ringing coming at me, and barely dodged a tackle followed up by a sword swing. "Huzzah! The Mighty Mouse Protector is-!" I quickly sprayed the shapely knight of mice with Air-No, and my favorite hero promptly inelegantly passed out. I wish I could get her autograph again, but I'll settle with the one in my pocket.

Not waiting for any of her backup to catch up, I bolted onward through the alley, and cursed as I dodged an oncoming grapple line courtesy of Armsmaster on his motorcycle, and I dropped my only can of expanding fog before running down the street from him and ducking into another alley. "Surrender! You are surrounded!" Echoed a woman's voice from overhead, and I seethed as I looked up and saw one of Dragon's VTOL craft just before it aimed a spotlight at me.

There was no point in running anymore.

My gang was scattered. I'd foolishly tried to clean my lab and take at least some of my work without my lieutenants with me. I was going to be captured, likely imprisoned and even sent to the Birdcage because my power's having hijacked my ability to function as a normal human being would make rebranding as a hero 'unpopular' because I didn't at least have a convenient caveat of being a Case 53.

I paused in the little fenced off loading dock behind the abandoned storage buildings, sheds compared to the warehouses, with enemies closing in. Well then. If there's nothing left.

I took the can of Primal out of my thigh pocket. This one was supposed to be a proof of concept. I was going to use it on a bird or lizard first since it's a hybrid one I made with DNA Leet told me was 'legit' from one of his old inventions and I haven't tested it properly. Thankfully my DNA had very strong reptilian traits, so this wouldn't kill me, whatever comfort that was.

Worst thing that could happen would be I die, painfully and slowly. Well, Uncle Eagan would tell me to man up and get on with it. I popped off the cap, pulled up my mask and my bodysuit and chugged. It tasted like cherries. I kept drinking as I heard several sets of feet approach, and once it was empty, I threw it at the nearest source of noise, sprinted for the heavy bay doors, and lifted them up just enough to slide under, before kicking the guide rail on the side inward to pinch it shut.

Just in time too, I gasped as I collapsed to the cold concrete floor, and screamed as the unholy burning agony swept through me. Dear fuck, how could I have done this to-?! "AAAAAARGH~!" I felt my bones shifting, snapping, reforming as the Primal told my body it was Wrong, and my Stim agreed. I felt hot. So hot. WHY IS IT SO HOT?! I tore my money-print hoodie open, not caring for my signature article of clothing as I needed to let my flesh BREATHE!

I ignored the sounds of my reinforced clothing tearing at my enhanced strength, as viceral animalistic panic and power flooded my veins. I faintly registered the sounds of multiple breaching methods breaking down the normal doors further inside, and tiredly dragged my mutating body behind some dusty crates to hopefully buy myself enough time to finish my transformation.

I panted as things began to clear up. My eyes could see in the darkness with incredible clarity, but it wasn't the light-sensitivity of felines. I took a deep inhale through my new nostrils, smelling that something was rotting somewhere in here, possibly for a long time. I couldn't see myself in detail with the dark, so looking down only told me that my hoodie and shirt were shredded, my pants as well, barely leaving me decent, and my boots had even broken open, I could feel what felt like my big toes poking through the fronts.

Whatever I was right now, it would have to do. I braced myself for when the doorway into the storage room I had fled to was breached, and when I heard it get knocked in, I tensed and mentally prepared myself. The heavy clanking told me the first in the door was Armsmaster, or maybe Dragon in one of her remote suits. "Come out Dealer. You're surrounded, outnumbered, and the Merchants are scattered." Armsmaster then.

I quietly placed my binder, which I'd somehow managed not to destroy in my anguished throes, and with surprising ease, near silently stalked around the edge of the room, evading the sweeping flashlights even as Armsmaster stabbed his secondary halberd into the ground, which proceeded to emit a steady strong light like a small sun. "What the fuck is that thing?!" Screamed a PRT Trooper, which I sensed was right near me by the sound and the heat he was giving off, so I pounced at him from our position near the corner edge of the crate-filled room.

He screamed and fired at me, which barely felt like an irritating swat from a child. Something I didn't let go unpunished as I let out an impressively throaty and echoing snarl before I wrenched the rifle from him with ease and instinctively lunged at his shoulder, biting down and making him scream more as my new teeth punctured his military kevlar like it was cotton. His blood was delicious. Oh god why does cannibalism feel so rewarding?!

Several other troopers fired on me from behind, and I growled as I whipped around and tossed my victim at them without using my claws, and I jumped with incredible power over the crates when Armsmaster fired a micro-grenade towards me over the crates. A good call, because the area it detonated was covered in a layer of containment foam. "What have you done to yourself…?" Armsmaster demanded of me with an infuriating amount of pity in his voice.

"What I needed to survive." My voice. It was deeper, throatier, raspier. My S syllables dragged a bit more. "By now, Squealer will have rallied the other bases, and my escape will be assured. I just have to get back out there." I examined my new clawed hands. I was covered in milky scales interspersed with patterns of black. What was odd was I was also covered faintly in short bright red plumage on the backs of my arms. I'll have to get a better look at myself later.

"No. You're finished." Armsmaster took up his main halberd and got into a ready stance. "By the power vested in me by the United States government as a Protectorate hero. You, are under arrest Dealer." I growled in response, I felt what must have been more plumage on my head and neck flare with my hackles as I squared off with the heroic armored tinker. He kept himself between me and his steady light source. Clever, if I could take that out, I'd have the advantage since I had thermal vision and he would have a limited field of view with just his visor.

But I wasn't dumb. I stood no chance against this guy, new body or not. Once I'd strafed with him towards the shutters, I gave him what I felt was a cheeky grin, and then bolted for it, dodging his grapple line as I reached out and snatched my binder a mere split-second before I rammed my body through the rusty old door, hissing as I tried to ignore the gashes the buckled metal left on me, and I valiantly wove through hails of bullets and even aerial containment methods from Dragon's VTOL with my new legs and tail making moving so much easier.

My mad dash back onto the streets was interrupted by a sliding van door opening in the air in front of me. I yelped with a raspy barking noise as I tripped and slid head-first into the wall inside the life-saving vehicle which slammed the door shut and took off so fast I slid backwards into the welcome arms of Pantera, who hugged me so tightly I heard her catsuit groaning. "Deal you fucking idiot! Don't run off like that!" Demanded my assistant, who then pulled my face to hers and kissed my new reptilian lips for a moment. "You dumbass. Don't make me worry like this."

I...I don't know how to respond. My heart was racing. My body was urging me to grab this sexy woman and Ravish her until she couldn't walk. To reciprocate these maddening pheromones she was flooding my senses with. To pin her to the bench right here and just-. "Pan? Uh. I...Think...this is a guess. I think...I may have incidentally fixed my emotion problem?" I don't think I can blush anymore, but I was feeling flush, hot. Especially in my groin as my huge, long tail flicked behind me in excitement and I resisted the desire to rip that catsuit off of her.

Pantera must've noticed, because her eyes widened, and she looked down between us with a bit of a shock to her face. "Holy shit...where were you hiding That?" I realized what she meant when she pressed herself into my embarrassingly exposed genitals, likely to hide me from the former Nazi and her son. "Uh...not that I'm not happy about this Deal? But, kinda a bad place for it. I'm not an exhibitionist, no matter how much I crave attention."

"Oh god, you two need to get a-." Rocksteady's comment was cut off by a massive explosion, and we snapped our heads in it's direction to see the top several floors of the Medhall building gone, and flying in shrapnel across the whole city.

"MAX~!" Purity suddenly screamed in anguish, and cried as she hugged her crying daughter to her chest, her son doing the same for her. What the hell is going on in this madhouse of a city?


	36. Interlude 3d

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Bandit**_

[Saturday, November 20, 2010]

He walked down the sidewalk, casual as could be. He had to, in spite of the massive explosion that had rocked the very air. The reason simple. He tapped the ground in front of him with his cane, making sure he wasn't about to run into anything. Because he was blind.

But, that was mostly a farce. The naturally 7-foot tall burly black man in his red Philadelphia Phillies jacket over his plain white shirt, baggy pants and expensive sneakers didn't need the cane, he could see but not with his eyes. His blind eyes were covered with a blackout visor and he wore a red Phillies cap backwards to cover his bald head. His lack of hair and his blindness a cost, one he paid several years ago for his gift. His power.

"-I need ambulances at the corner of-!" A first responder, not what he was listening for.

"-The Merchants are rallying! We need-!" A PRT Trooper, but not covering what he wanted.

"-Dealer has escaped, his last known coordinates are-."

"Good to see my niece's ally has avoided jail again." Commented the velvety voice of the powerful parahuman, grinning his unnaturally white and straight teeth as he continued to pantomime being a normal blind man. He schooled his expression to one of fear and worry as he tapped more insistently just as a police cruiser rounded a corner and stopped the car.

"Sir! Sir, are you alright?!" Demanded the woman as she rushed towards him, and he paused and reached out for her with his unoccupied left arm, getting her to yelp as he groped her chest while he pretended it was an accident and dragged his hand up to her shoulder. God being blind was awesome sometimes.

"Sorry miss. I'm blind, I'm unable to tell what's going on." He injected enough false fear into his voice to get across that he needed help he didn't really need, and the woman was kind enough to go along with it. How convenient that he was alone on this street, to be found by this patrol rather than herded with the other people in the area.

"Sir, I'm going to guide you into the back seat of a police car. You are not being detained. We'll get you to safety." The woman stated as she began leading him towards the car, keeping his hand on her shoulder as she put a hand on his own shoulder to presumably help guide him.

"Thank you kindly officer, if I could see you I'd give you a kiss in thanks." He could hear her heart beat slightly faster and how her vocal chords gave a pleased quiet hum at his comment. He did love to see what made a lady happy, usually flattery combined with humble self-pity got him a long way with the fairer sex.

"Don't push it buddy." Voiced her male partner, who obviously didn't care for the grabby blind man making passes at his superior.

"Calm down Sanchez. I'm opening the door, I need you to duck down a good bit." The female officer said to the large man and he felt her hand glide up his head and feel out his bald head. Thankfully she missed the small dark mole-like implant hidden behind his ear. That would've given him a literal headache. Otherwise, he grinned at noting he had her, he just had to get her number for later.

He let her manually and carefully guide his head under the roof of the car, and he slid into the rear seat with a bit of a squeeze, but he'd had worse. "Thank you again. I swear, this town is worse than New York." He commented before she closed the door, and with that the officers got back in the front and began driving. His 'safety' more or less secured in a patrol car that wasn't even going towards the main action, something he deduced by listening in on their scanner and dispatch, he could now begin establishing an alibi. "Do major buildings blow up regularly here?"

"No sir. Today's just an especially bad one." Replied Officer Sanchez since his partner was the one driving and they both were focusing on listening to the scanner and dispatch while also visually keeping an eye out for stragglers like him who they were ordered to direct to safety. He had to grin at the fact that it was already safe. He only needed the one bomb to cut the head off the snake. More work would be needed to deal with the body's death throes however.

"Well at least you don't have the Teeth or the Bloods here." He replied as he continued listening in, trying to see where the Merchants were moving shop to now that Calvert has played his hand and exposed their headquarters. Idiot. All he's done is stir the hornet's nest.

"So what's your name sir?" Asked the female officer, he was wondering when they would get around to identifying him. NYPD would've demanded his ID immediately.

"Ah, but milady, isn't it polite to give your own name first?" He teased, and he could hear her mutter in quiet embarrassment that she forgot he couldn't read her nametag. He could, but only because it was indented, and he wasn't about to leak that right here. Maybe on the third date.

"Sorry sir. I am Officer McMullen. What is your name?" Ah, either an Irish or Scottish girl. They tend to be real firebrands with his experience. He looked forward to trying to get her number.

"I am Derek Fields. I prefer Geno however." Geno smiled as he introduced himself. "I'm here on a visit, but I found out my brother was murdered by the Empire, and my niece has fled. What i've managed to gather is she's in the Merchants." Supply the motive, make sure it's at least half-true.

"That's awful. I'm sorry to hear that. Have you brought this to the BBPD yet?" Officer McMullen asked with sympathy as he could hear Officer Sanchez taking notes.

"No. I was informed by his neighbors that his home was broken into and he was killed as an initiation. His name was Terrance Fields." The Empire had murdered his brother in cold blood. Thankfully, or sadly, his niece had already run away from home according to the neighbors. They also said they feared that his brother was abusing his niece, leading to her fleeing. He loved his brother, and he would get justice, but he had to find Kathleen, get the truth from her.

"Hey, isn't that the victim of the hate crime last week?" Sanchez asked McMullen, and she gave an affirming hum. "Don't worry sir. We'll find the ones who did it, even if we can't touch the ones who told them to do it." He already did that.

"Authority, I get it. I'm from New York. So many different lines and red tape you might as well give up sometimes." Geno shrugged as they slowed to a stop.

"Alright sir, we're a good deal away from the danger zone. Where are you staying?" McMullen asked, and he produced a small piece of paper from his pocket. "The Motel 8? I'm surprised they're still in business." McMullen commented before informing her superiors she was escorting a blind civilian home. It was an amicable quiet ride from there until they reached the motel. "We're here sir."

"Thank you kindly miss. Would you do me a favor, and put your number on my phone? I'll figure out how to holler at you from there, if you would be willing." Geno provided a simple flip phone that had braille keys and an audio assistant. Officer McMullen did so without much hesitation and from the hum of approval and the spike in her heart rate, he guessed she was smiling when she did so. "Thank you. I'll give you a ring sometime. Did you write down my number?"

"You heard that huh?" McMullen replied with an audible cheer to her tone. He heard her navigate his phone just a bit too long to just enter her's in the contacts and the quick scribble of her pen on a notepad.

"Not much avoids these ears. You two be safe." Geno wished them as the door was unlocked and he carefully let himself out. He purposefully faced slightly to the left of them as he waved them goodbye. Once they were gone, the smile quickly fled his face, he held his cane to his side and marched like any normal person to the steps leading up to the second floor rooms. Once at room 12, he used his cardkey to enter the nondescript room. "Kaiser, Krieg, and Victor are dead. The Empire will break with this loss."

"Good." Stated the terrifying woman seated in the lone chair of the motel room. "Have you figured out where the Merchants are moving base?"

"My ears miss little, but I haven't overheard anything." Geno groused, and his brow twitched when the woman simply dropped a plastic braille card on the small table. "Why don't you use that Path of yours to arrange things straight up?" Geno demanded of Contessa, perhaps the scariest woman on the planet, at least in his opinion.

"The Path tells me that getting the cooperation of the Merchants directly would be nearly impossible. Having you liason and ease them into it however would work." The pantsuit and fedora wearing woman stood, and walked around the corner into the small bathroom. "Remember, approach them with friendliness, regardless of your niece's condition."

"Or I die. Yeah, just get out of my room." Geno demanded, and shortly he heard the dissonant muted crackle of Doormaker's portal opening in the bathroom, followed by it closing. "I hate that woman profusely." Geno moved to the table and looked at the braille. He didn't need to touch it, the hypersonar implants behind his ears gave shape to everything, so he could read it from across the room and facing away from him even. "Smart. Nobody would think of that."

Geno held up his left index finger and tapped the ring he was wearing on the plastic braille. With a nearly inaudible hum from the ring, the plastic softened and he formed the thing into a ball before tossing it in the trash once it solidified. "Well, better get ready to hunt down Hookwolf." He was the last survivor of the chain of command, if anyone was going to hold the Empire together, even as a splinter cell, it would be him. Or Purity, but he was told by Contessa that under no terms, at all, was he to touch the ex-Nazi. Or her family, which was fine by him.

Geno moved to his baggage, and picked up a simple black business suitcase. He tapped his ring and held it to the latches, which undid the hidden inner locks and he opened it to reveal a full bodysuit that was pitch black save the circuitry lines running over it, as well as a pair of black gloves and sandals. He shucked his clothes and put on the bodysuit, which also covered his head. He put on the gloves, and then slipped on the sandals. "Time for Reverb to vibrate."

He put his ring over his gloved left index finger and twisted. Flowing out from the ring, his costume shifted into a full suit of power-assisted armor, a blue shimmer occasionally flowing through the body-conforming platemail suit of armor. He bounced energetically but silently, his sandals-turned-boots absorbing all the sound and kinetic energy from impact, powering up his suit just a bit before he got started. "Alright, let's take a listen." The faceless helmet turned towards Downtown, and with some hand gestures, he keyed into several frequencies, but with his armor adding power to his hypersonar, he could key into ones that fit his criteria easier.

"-Round up the gang. Everyone. We've got to move Now if we're going to keep the Empire from crumbling." Reverb began moving his hands to interact with an invisible HUD. Within moments, he was tracking the signal of the disposable cell phone. "I don't care if Night and Fog want to know where Purity is, the bitch betrayed us to the Merchants, so she's our enemy too."

"Gesellschaft's little toys are oddly interested in Purity. I'll pass that on to Cauldron in the event they're somehow unaware, or if that shrew thought it wasn't important to her damned Path." Reverb noted as he moved to his door, leaving with confidence he would be unseen, both because he heard/saw nobody nearby, and because the sun had set on the ride to the motel. Black on black was excellent city camouflage at night when he wasn't in full motion yet.

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Reverb jumped over the railing, silently and comfortably landing on the hard tarmac of the parking lot, before his armor's circuits shined and he took off at a sprint that could rival a drag racer. Every contact with the ground fed his suit, every motion an economical combination of maintaining his balance and feeding his suit in a self-contained feedback loop of building and spending energy. Meanwhile, he barely even felt his feet touching the ground, let alone the air that seemed to part around him.

Following the signal of Hookwolf's phone, he ran through the city, uncaring for any BBPD, PRT, or even a couple Wards he saw as he blitzed through. Only Velocity could hope to even match him in speed here, and otherwise was just as useless in a fight. After cutting through half of the city, he intently ran headlong into the front of a limousine in a shoulder check, crumpling the engine block and stopping the vehicle dead. He didn't even bounce backward from it.

"Hookwolf. Get out of that bogus limo and get ready to die." At Reverb's demand, one of the rear doors slammed open, and the pit brawler stumbled out with blood running down his face from his broken nose, probably from the crash.

"Who the fuck are you?!" Demanded the changer as he shifted into a massive multi-headed wolf, snarling at the tinker who didn't even twitch at the display of power.

"Reverb." At dropping his name, he enjoyed the visible shock and panic of his target. "Yes. Big bad boogie-man of Manhattan, Reverb, is here to play." Semi-Independent Villain premiere.

"The fuck is a big-shot like you doing here?!" Hookwolf demanded as he looked around, and seemed to make himself bigger as he covered himself in spikes.

"Simple. You dumbasses killed my brother. Now you all pay for his life in blood." Reverb didn't give Hookwolf any more time to prepare himself, and dashed at him with a haymaker so fast it couldn't be seen by normal means. His armor converted his forward momentum into a kinetic pulse, launching the massive metallic Nazi down the street like an oversized pinball. The feedback of the pulse simply washed over Reverb, who cracked his neck. "Is that it?"

Apparently so, because instead of trying to charge him, Hookwolf immediately fled down a random street. "Fucking asshole!" Reverb looked in the ruined limo to see a couple of incredibly hot ladies in wing-motif armor and a teenage girl in billowing red robes with a simple domino mask. They were all injured from the crash, the teen seemed to have a head injury and the women looked bruised from their armor battering them.

"Whoa, sorry pretty ladies, didn't know he had a party of the fairer sex with him." Reverb checked the driver, and winced at seeing the cage-masked woman unconscious and her arms broken by the airbag that saved her. "Shit. Here, get some help." Reverb reached into his armor's utility belt and tossed a few hundred dollar bills at the girls. "I'm going to go kill that wuss and end your organization. I suggest you rethink your way of life ladies."

He cat-called playfully before he raced off after Hookwolf. However his changer power worked, he still had his phone on him, so it was easy to run him down even with a few blocks of a head start on the New York tinker. Not giving Hookwolf any notice, he grabbed the man's tail and his suit instantly gained a charge off the vibrations the ferrous villain created just from moving. Converting the charge into motion, he stomped his feet into the road, pitting the street and pulling Hookwolf several feet into the air, before Reverb launched him face-first into the middle of the rapidly abandoned road with steel-shattering force.

The changer groaned as he reverted back to his human state, his nose still broken and his body now showing fresh bruising all over. "Metal's real good for generating or transferring vibrations. It is the basis my powers work off of. You're really unfortunate I'm out for blood."

"Wait! I'll find out who killed your brother! Tell me his name and I'll hand over the guys that did it!" Hookwolf pleaded as he barely managed to get to his feet.

"You'd betray your gang that easy?" Reverb asked sceptically, getting Hookwolf to huff.

"I joined the Empire as a buffer against getting Caged. They may be my people now, but I'm not going to let everything go to shit just because a couple of idiots killed the wrong guy." Hookwolf pragmatically declared, and Reverb stared at him silently. "Well? Do we have a deal?"

"I'm weighing smearing you on the street out of principal." Reverb made a complex hand gesture with his knuckles meeting, his hands and fingers vaguely shaping the word 'blood' and Hookwolf turned even whiter. "Bloods for life, asshole. You have my brother's blood on your hands. Even if I let you live and the ones who killed him got served, my brother would sooner rise up out of hell than let me live it down. Besides, those boys will be getting picked up by the BBPD before the night's over thanks to an 'anonymous' tip. You've got nothing."

"Fuck you then!" Hookwolf exploded not into a wolf, but a gnashing amorphous mass of hooks and blades as he lunged at the veteran criminal cape. He encompassed him immediately and began writhing, only for a massive pulse seconds later to rip him to shreds, scattering him over the area, blood raining down with the metal and coating Reverb in the viscera of his victim.

"Have fun bro. I've sent your killers down with you." Reverb quietly declared, standing in the short-lived rain of his own making, before running off in a different direction than his motel to throw off any onlookers, and he began a long and roundabout route back to his current safehouse.

Evading anything that could narrow his location too much, he arrived back at the motel unseen, unheard, and unmolested. Once in his room, he sighed, and went to the bathroom to shower off the dried blood on his armor. After he assumed it clean enough, he got out, turned the ring the other way, which reverted his armor back to it's simpler pieces, and put it back in the briefcase, locking it with his ring.

"Only been here a few days and already things are looking up." Geno commented to himself as he put on a baggy shirt and shorts before jumping onto the bed. He laid there a few moments, before sighing and getting up to turn off the lamp he didn't realize Contessa left on earlier. Now that the unnecessary heat source was off, he got back in bed, and used his ring to turn off his hypersonar implants, turning the world truly dark and rendering himself properly blind.

Then his cell phone rang. Geno cursed before he rolled over and answered it. "Hello?"

"Hey Geno, it's officer McMullen. I have good news, we've nabbed your brother's killers." At hearing the woman's voice, Geno smiled and relaxed into his rented bed.

"That's great. Now I've just gotta find my girl, Kathleen Fields. She should be 19 this year I think." Geno dropped, add onto his alibi to remain in the city.

"Fields, Kathleen. Reported missing almost a year ago...I don't think she'd still be alive after all this time Geno." McMullen commented sadly, but Geno hummed soothingly.

"Don't worry, I know she's okay out there. Hell, wouldn't be surprised if she's raising some hell herself. Hopefully not, but I just hope she's okay. Good to hear from you officer, thanks for giving me a holler." Geno wanted to keep talking, but he had a full day tomorrow.

"Call me Carla Geno. I'll keep in touch, let you know if we find anything." The now-named Carla promised.

"Thanks Carla. You have a good night." Geno smiled at this progress. Dates would follow.

"Goodnight." Carla well-wished before hanging up, and Geno put his cell back on the nightstand before settling back into the bed.

"Ah~...peace." Geno relaxed, letting the soothing sense of nothingness lull him to sleep. He had good dreams of reuniting with his niece, who he hadn't seen since she was a little girl.


	37. Chapter 27

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Enzyme 3.9**_

[Saturday, November 20, 2010]

Once the shock of seeing Medhall explode had settled, I sat opposite Purity as Rocksteady took over driving now that he wasn't so woozy and Bebop gladly let him as the boar took to napping off the drop in adrenaline. I however was practically naked and too, um, excited, so Pantera sat on my lap to keep me somewhat decent in front of our saddened charges.

Purity, or Kayden as she'd introduced once she'd stopped crying, told me that her ex-husband and father of her children, both the infant Aster in her arms and her stepson Theo who was seated next to her was Max Anders, CEO/Owner of Medhall, and was also Kaiser. For all she knew, he and maybe some of his higher-ups were likely on his penthouse floor. Which just so happened to be scattered across the entire city now, likely along with the NeoNazi leader.

I didn't know what to say to that, how to talk about it, comfort her. Damn it. I realize now that being an emotionless monster had some advantages to it, because now I feel terrible for Kayden and I'm a bundle of nerves that currently has my new phallus sandwiched between the god-awesome large steel buns of my girlfriend, because she is, for decency since my clothes are so shredded I can't hide anything. When did my life get so oversexed and weird?

"Boss. Squealer's got everything sorted out. The Jeepers, Creepers, and Peepers are all being deployed to take back any of our captured people, retrieve as much stuff as we can from the ruins of the fishery, and also evacuate the pregnant women and injured." Rocksteady informed me from up front as he maneuvered the van through the city with deft ease. Thankfully Squealer had modified the van for people of Rock's morphology before this disaster happened.

"That's all good Rock, but where are we going? Where are we all moving shop to? I know for fact the bases in the trainyard, the refinery, and the outpost at the storage units are nowhere near concealed enough for everything we've lost, not even mentioning the safehouses." I never went anywhere but the fishery and the lab on 12th Street before that. Is it irony that both were lost to explosions that I had no part in causing?

"She said to head for the trainyard first. She'll tell us when we're secure." Rocksteady informed us and I sighed in exasperation as I eyed my tattered pants-turned-shorts without their pockets.

"Please tell me you have your phone on you Pan. I don't think I managed to keep much on me besides my binder here." I held up the heavily battered binder holding the most detailed finalized notes of my existing work. If Armsmaster or Dragon got ahold of them, I'd be screwed. It was bad enough the Protectorate would likely get to keep the vats of Balcoat and Clearcoat we used for our-. "Oh~ Pan...don't move like that…." I breathily pleaded of my girlfriend who had shimmied as she unzipped her catsuit to access her cleavage and fish out her burner phone.

"Deal, I'm literally being hot-dogged in a rubber catsuit. Staying still is _really_ hard with something so big, firm, and hot between my buttcheeks." Pantera stressed with a pout as she handed her phone back to me, which I flicked open and carefully began to dial a number without piercing the buttons with my ridiculously sharp claws. "Who are you calling?"

"Tattletale." I grimly stated, and held the phone up to my elongated head, getting a quick feel for where whatever my ears now were sat on my skull. I waited several rings before it picked up.

"Hello?" Whoa, Tattletale sounds like she's been dragged through a field of human feces.

"And I thought we had it bad. What put you through the ringer Tats?" I casually questioned as I tried not to voice my approval/disapproval of Pantera moving to lean back into me, providing such delicious friction and warmth that I almost rumbled a purr with my new vocal cords.

"Ugh...good to hear you're a human again Dealer. As for who has worked me over; the Boss." I rolled my eyes and growled with my new inhuman voice box. "Ow! Shit! Ugh...not human then."

"Are there any eaves?" I hoped that was subtle enough, and after a few weak whines, she sighed and grumbled over her headache. I'm glad my own headaches are harder to trigger.

"Nope. Ain't no droppin' no eaves, honest. I at least got rid of any bugs before I collapsed." With Tat's confirmation the call was clean, I relaxed a bit, and bit my lip with my sharp teeth and hissed as doing so unintentionally shifted Pantera on me, which, as I should've realized from before, was beyond distracting and enticing. "Oh god, seriously? You're having sex while-?"

"Don't assume. It's an...unfortunately pleasing scenario I've found myself in currently. Very awkward, and with onlookers." I stressed, and Pantera chuckled, making me hiss more as she bounced a bit. "Stop moving." I insisted, and Pantera at least stopped then. "Ugh, anyway, I want your Boss, Coil, to die. Painfully. And preferably before next weekend."

"First, ew. Trainwreck Tattled huh? That's supposed to be my thing. Thought something was up. Anyway, I like the sound of that, but you've seen what he's capable of. Bombing your headquarters while also trying to off you at Somer's Rock, both using a third party. No clue if Medhall was part of that." Tattletale stated and I snorted dismissively. "Wow, you've got balls."

"Not anymore!" Pantera, with her sharp hearing, replied with humor and I groaned as she leaned back and commandeered the phone for a moment. "He's some sort of fluffy, feathery lizard, no balls, just the stick when aroused." Don't flaunt my internal testes Pan!

"TMI! Ugh! Bad enough the Surge has my brain in the gutter half the time. Now I'm imagining-fuck!" I leered with frustration at my girlfriend as I took back the phone to hear the villainess swearing in the background. Wow she had issues with her sexuality.

"Tats, questioning your kinks can wait, Coil's head on a pike decorating my new lab won't, because I won't. Aim us at him, and he dies, that's all I'm asking." I seriously want this fucker dead. For all I know he knows my identity, and-.

"He doesn't know your identity Andrew. There's some things I absolutely refuse to give out. Just in case though, tell your family and friends to make themselves scarce." Tattletale advised.

"I may have to anyway…." I considered as I looked at my long and powerful tail twitching on the bench next to me. Well, at least I can't go back to that rotting pit called Winslow, a net positive.

"As for aiming you at him like a mad dog, I can't. I don't know where he's based, he always has me blinded and deafened and ran through so many loops not even my power can figure out where he is when he brings me in for a personal briefing or debrief." Tattletale audibly simmered, she clearly hated the bastard at least as much as I do.

"Then I think it's time the Undersiders found a new employer." I suggested as I looked over at Kayden and Theo, who were watching with a mixture of awkwardness and intrigue, likely due to both my erotic physical situation combined with the intense subject of the call.

"What? That's impossible. Coil's got the money to fund us, you don't. He's got a noose around all our necks, you don't. There's a reason we're still in this situation. If I could've I would've jumped ship immediately." Tattletale insisted, so I decided to flex my persuasion skills.

"Money is petty, and a noose can be cut. Give us your services and you get access to all our resources. It may not be cold hard cash, but it's impressive. Give us what ails you, and we'll free you from it. Something I've learned is no amount of danger or bureaucracy can stand in front of a lot of very angry people." And oh were the Merchants indeed a lot of angry people. Go self-help books. I think I'll keep reading them if it helps broaden my skill set.

"Damn, that's tempting. But no. I'm not throwing my team in the garbage disposal until I can ensure the power's cut first." I sighed, clearly there was no pulling her around in such a straightforward manner. Why does everything have to be so complicated? "However, I'll gather what I can, as fast as I can. The noose is tightening. We're quickly becoming unnecessary to him. The ABB are gone, the Empire is soon to follow, and we're useless against you in a fight."

"Then get ready to bail. When the time comes and he's not dead yet, run for the Trainyard. Good luck Tats." I hung up and then quickly dialed another number. "Mom, are you okay?"

"Son? Where are you, are you alright?!" I cringed at hearing my mom's frantic concern. She should be sleeping at this time of night too, so I know she's been up worrying since my phone is likely in PRT custody. Thankfully it was a burner and I didn't keep any call histories or contact lists, and only the Merchants knew that phone number, I leave my personal phone at home.

"I'm fine, but that's not important right now. Get out of the house, go get Taylor and Danny, and head for the Trainyard as fast as reasonably possible. You all might be in danger." I urged my mother. "Coil is after us and he's already tried to kill me on neutral ground and blew up our headquarters, we're retreating. I'm not risking the snake possibly knowing our identities, so get to safety." I can only hope I was fast enough and if he does know, that his goons miss them.

"Fuck. Alright, I'm packing an overnight bag with clothes and heading to Danny's, be safe son." I felt warmth in my heart, fondness and happiness at hearing the well-wish. Wow I missed this.

"Be safe mom." I hung up, and then finally handed my girlfriend's phone back. "Thanks Pan."

"If you want to thank me, kiss me." She fluttered her eyes at me over her shoulder as she put her phone back in her cleavage and zipped back up, to which I rolled my own eyes.

"I think we're in a compromising enough position." I looked out the windows and felt relief. "We're almost to the trainyard. Once there we should be safe." I left out that considering I was ambushed by Lung on the way there when we were first expanding out of the fishery, Coil might already know about it. Then again, the snake would find it much harder to hit us now that we're more wary. At least I hope so. If he has the Undersiders, what other capes could he gather?

As we pulled into the open gate, I had to gawk at what we witnessed. Somehow, likely with Leet's bullshit overpowered specialization, when we passed the main perimeter gates into the North Brockton Trainyard, the van seemed to move through a brief tunnel and we were suddenly back outside but with everyone operating in the open with the utility and lot lights all on when before the place was deserted. "No fucking way! Leet built a pocket dimension?!"

"Uh...Squealer? We just drove through a wormhole." Rocksteady nervously spoke into the radio as he drove around the Merchants all frantically working on some sort of rough frames with welding equipment across the yard. It seemed the crew here was busy breaking down shipping containers and train cars for mass producing the framework of something boxy and wide.

"Good. Welcome to Haven. I was planning on showing everyone at a party tomorrow night, but needs must. Pull up to the first warehouse on the left, that's my new motor pool." Squealer stated over the radio, and Rocksteady guided us around all the activity bustling through the yard and into the open bay doors of the storage building. There was Squealer's toy monster truck.

Rocksteady pulled into a vacant space, and the others got up, I had to sheepishly try to cover up my maleness with my battered plastic binder...wait. "You devious letch." I growled at my girlfriend, and she looked victorious as she spanked her rear and jumped out the back doors.

"As a woman kid, trust me; she's got you by the nonexistent balls." Kayden informed me with some measure of amusement, and I grumbled as I waited for her, Theo, and my lieutenants to get out first. The fewer people I have to risk flashing before I calm down, the better.

"Ah, you must be Purity! Good you got to us before all this shit hit the fan. Now where's Dealer, he just lost his lab and I wanna assure him he'll have something here to work with." Skidmark's voice came from past the group, and I took that as my cue to step out as they moved aside. "Holy shit! You look like one of those raptors from Jurassic Park! But all fluffy and shit!"

"I'll wait for a mirror to judge. So this is the new place?" I asked as I carefully kept my binder covering my finally retreating penis while I looked around. By the time I swept my eyes over the numerous boxy...things, that were obviously what the shipping containers and train cars were being converted into, I could lower my binder and reveal a blank groin, getting everyone but Pantera to gape in surprise since she saw Tie-Dye this morning. "Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Well shit, at least you've got mouth now. Let's get you folks cleaned up and clothed. Come with me." Skidmark headed towards the back of the warehouse, and when we got out, there was a tram set on the small tracks that already existed for moving product within the yard. When we all piled in, Skidmark pressed a button on the dash, causing it to whirr and move us down the line. "This place is fucking epic. Leet figured out a loophole for his powers, and now we've got this sweet duplicate pocket dimension of the real Trainyard. You can only get in, or out, with a vehicle using a specific transponder frequency or some shit. Good thing they did that already."

"Wait, uh, what about the stars up there?" Bebop asked as he pointed in the sky. That may have been a childish question, but, it was a rather disturbing idea when you consider that this 'pocket' was possibly a whole universe, taken as a snapshot of our own reality. What is existence?

"It's a filter. This dimension exists...ugh, Leet called it 'just a step to the left' of our world. Once he used his device with the set radius, this place was created. He said it should last to the inevitable heat-death of the universe. Whatever that is." While the others were clearly confused, I understood, roughly, what Skidmark was trying to get across, not that it was comforting.

"We're here, but also in the original Trainyard at the same time, but also at the same time not." I tried to clarify, which got everyone to grumble about 'tinker bullshit' which I am in no place to comment on, considering my powerset. Wait…. "Uh...guys? I'm not feeling...urges, anymore." I tried to stress what I meant by urges, considering since I mutated myself, I haven't felt compulsions set on me by my powers, which were chiefly what motivated me before my unexpected emotion and personality resurrection. God, I was practically dead wasn't I?

"Can you still make weird stuff?" Skidmark demanded of me, and I opened the binder to look over the notes, and I nodded. It still clicked, but nowhere near as overwhelmingly as before. At least I still have my powers then. "Then you're alright. Here we are." Skidmark said as the tram slowed to a stop at the end of the line. We filed out and followed him into a ridiculously massive warehouse that was converted into a bunkhouse. There were bunks lining the walls and filling the floorspace. They were triple-decked and there was even a second floor that seemed to be made of fused-together carpeted catwalks that had smaller single beds above the first floor.

Skidmark led us through to the stairs up towards the offices, and we entered the first room to see a common room with an entertainment center with the works, with a tired Squealer lounging on a far-too-new recliner with a radio receiver in hand. "-Tell them I don't give a rat's ass if fucking Dragon herself is trying to make off with them, scrap the damn vans if you have to. Don't let them get my work. You all know what to do, Squealer out." She slammed the hand receiver on the radio's holster and growled furiously as she pulled on her blonde hair. "Fucking heroes!"

"Chill babe, things will get handled." Skidmark soothed as he moved to his woman and kissed her brow, the shapely tinker sighing through her bandana mask as she looked over at us.

"Oh god, Dealer's a fluffy raptor. Kids will love that." Squealer commented as she looked down the hall where most of the original open office space was converted into separate rooms. "Hey bozos! Get out here!" At Squealer's demand, Uber and Leet ran into the common room, wearing casual sleep clothing and domino masks. "Deal with them, I'm going to bed." Squealer grabbed Skidmark by the collar and dragged him down the hallway, muttering about stress relief.

"Fuck yeah! I see the hybrid Velociraptor and Dakotaraptor DNA worked out for your Primal." Leet gushed, and I glared at him, making him nervously back away. "Heh, uh, don't eat me?"

"Where the fuck did you get dinosaur DNA?" I had to demand. Because I'm now a half-human, half raptor, with that half being quarter one type and quarter another. Also I'm fluffy. Very fluffy.

"We did a Jurassic Park episode. Leet here kinda went overboard, made some sort of time machine thing that could get stuff from the past. Thankfully it broke after he got a couple limbs of freshly killed dinosaurs for him to make the tiny dinos with. Didn't you wonder how we simulated the whole set of Jurassic Park?" Uber asked, and I huffed with my odd new bark. It was loud.

"Sorry, I don't watch idiots do stupid shit. I'm too busy actually doing things. Like you two have finally been doing since you teamed up with us." I growled, incensed that this whole time, these two morons have been wasting time with a fucking WEB SHOW when they could've been successful villains? Or even heroes? Or at least rogues! "Ugh, whatever. So now I'm a formerly extinct species. I need a room to crash, I'll deal with all this tomorrow. It's Future Me's problem."

Clearly they didn't take my criticism well, but at least they let it drop for now. Uber led us all to our separate rooms, which were barely 8 by 10 feet and just had a double bed, nightstand and lamp for now. I closed the door and sighed as I set my binder on the nightstand, and proceeded to finish ripping off the last of my ruined clothes. When I got to my boots, I had to use my new claws to saw them open enough to pull out my large feet with my massive hooked toe claws out.

Now nude, I could get some better idea of my body. I have the same muscular definition that I had as a pure human, but now I'm covered in milky white scales with black stripes patterned over me. Over that, on the backs of my arms, on my head, down my neck and back, over my shoulders and the topside of my tail, was bright red plumage that matched the color of my former hair. My feet were drastically different however, wider, more joints, and of course the sickle claws. I didn't have a mirror though, so I couldn't check what my face looked like exactly.

"He's an Argonian!" I heard echo with excitement from Leet as my door opened. I didn't realize they had soundproofed the rooms, and turned to the door in surprise, only for it to fade at seeing Pantera slide in and close the door, looking antsy with her long tail flicking about.

"What is it Pan? You still haven't gotten cleaned up." I was referencing the dried caked blood around the collar of her suit. Pantera didn't speak, she just bit her lip before she stalked up to me, and I backed up into the mostly covered and sectioned window of my new room until she was pressing me into the wall, and she wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling my lips into hers. I growled, grabbing at her waist and her rear, pushing her back and down to the floor as I-.

I jumped off and away from her, trying to use my hands to hide my once-more revealed reproductive organ as I panted, trying to fight off the powerful haze that was consuming me. My vision was faded, my smell stronger-. "Aw, c'mon Deal. You're finally free to feel things, let's-."

"I do not consent!" I steadfastly affirmed to my girlfriend with an angry hiss. I could feel my plumage flaring with my hackles as my fluffy tail flicked in agitation. "I'm 15 Pan! It's not right for someone my age to be engaging in intercourse." Why can't she understand this?

"Ugh, seriously? I thought that was just your stone-cold lack of emotions and urges talking." Pantera whined as she stood back up, approaching me with a delicious sway to her hips, unzipping her suit and freeing her chest melons entirely, my eyes locking on to her nipples with hunger. "There we go. Someone is alive in there. I just want to feel you Deal." Oh god no….

"...No." I weakly resisted as she pressed against me. I whimpered, turning my face when she began licking and sucking on my neck, getting me panting and weakly trying to push her away. "Stop…." She reached down, grabbing my-. "I said NO!" I pushed her away with more force than necessary, getting her to yelp as she sprawled on the floor, and I turned away, shivering. "Leave me alone…." I'm not ready. Especially now that I'm in this new body. I just need time….

"Deal? What's wrong?" Pantera asked with sudden concern, I flinched and shied away when she touched my shoulder. "Look, I'm sorry-." I glared at her and she backed away, ears bent back and eyes sad as she zipped back up and left. I crawled into bed, I'm done for now.


	38. Chapter 28

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Agitator 4.1**_

[Monday, November 22, 2010]

Yesterday, I got to see that my observations were correct, and thankfully my eyes were still green, just slitted and reptilian with a nictitating membrane. Uber and Leet told me I looked like a fan rendition of an Argonian from a game series called the Elder Scrolls. I'm not one for video games, but even I was interested when they got going on the lore of the series. Sounds like an epic fantasy book rather than some game, I'd like to try it out. I wonder, can I give myself gills?

That aside, Leet stressed that I needed an alibi, and he wanted to ensure all the people who take Primal can blend into society for mundane things when needed. Thus, he made a way too effective disguise belt that shunts the wearer's body 'just one step to the right' and imposes an 'avatar' custom crafted for and by the wearer based on their subconcious over the wearer's usual dimensional locations in reality. Seriously. Then he scanned it with some sort of leaf blower machine, and started duplicating it on the spot. That is one stupidly OP loophole.

That said, this avatar was directly connected to my actual body, and was as physically capable and stable as me too, so any injury or exertion was transferred to me as well. The weak point was the belt of course, if it was broken or removed, my physical body would be restored to the normal dimensions of reality. Ugh, my head hurts trying to wrap itself around having two bodies.

Anyway, besides that I didn't get much done on Sunday besides having a stern talk with Pantera about my insecurities with intimacy and my family's history of being casanova love-and-leavers, something I had no intention of repeating. My dad managed to break that tradition, but my Uncle Eagan was a perfect example that I didn't want to follow, even if I did admire him otherwise. Then there was my concern for possibly having kids this young, and that I had no idea how virile I was, how fertile she was, and if traditional contraceptives would even work. That got her to cool her jets and apologize, but I could tell it was a temporary thing since she still got handsy.

As for my mom, Taylor, and Danny; they got to Haven safely, were informed of the situation, and were told to go back to their routines Monday with Peeper overwatch on each of them. As for me, I was told to do the same with both Peeper overwatch and with Mush on call in case I'm outed and need parahuman support to get away, even if I instead wanted to get to my new lab and get set up at least, but instead I had to put on a Guise Belt and...go back to school.

I walked with unease through the front doors of Winslow in my new black jeans, sneakers, and a simple black sweater, both annoyed at being here, and thankful that I could even do so. I looked down at my false human hand and flexed my fingers at the surreal experience of being human again, yet at the same time being my new saurian self. Seriously, Leet was bullshit overpowered, and we're to blame for him finding out about this. I looked back up and weaved around the Surge-augmented populace of Winslow High School alongside Taylor.

I blushed at realizing I'd turned the school into a supermodel den of amazons and spartans, with muscular and buxom young women happily gallivanting about in skimpy clothes typical of rebellious teenagers while their bodybuilder male counterparts were all squeezed into tight pants and shirts, with both sides playfully teasing each other and clearly longing for physical contact. Dear god, what have I done? This pit of hormones and pheromones was practically suffocating, if my actual body was here, I'd probably be driven into an animalistic lust.

"This is so awkward…." Taylor commented next to me as we weaved through the crowds of both familiar and unfamiliar faces. "I'm not the tallest girl around anymore, and I'm also not the flattest. I feel normal compared to these girls." Taylor commented as she dusted her short pleated brown skirt and held her backpack up over her simple green blouse. She even got rid of her glasses thanks to Stim making them unneeded. Taylor was...surprisingly beautiful.

I felt my fake face flush as I realized what I was thinking about my best friend. "Same, but for the guys." I replied, seeing some of the especially gifted guys having reached nearly 8 feet in height, some I recognized as being on the basketball team. Or, former basketball team? I think this situation may invalidate any competitive sports curriculums. Heh, that was one of Winslow's few saving graces, take that from this place and it's just a cesspit without quality.

"All students report to your homerooms, and then head to the gymnasium for an announcement." Came an unfamiliar voice over the PA system, and with that I bid Taylor goodbye, and went to my homeroom. I sat at my assigned seat in the back and once roll-call was taken, followed the class to the gym, where rather than the segregation that occurred last time, everyone intermingled, even people I knew were in, or formerly in, the ABB and E88.

I spotted Taylor quickly, only to be grabbed and dragged aside on the way by Sophia Hess, as I helplessly watched Emma Barnes, now nearly as tall as Taylor and twice as shapely, sit next to my visibly worried friend. I growled and pulled my arm out of the bitch's grasp and tried to go back towards Taylor, but Hess grabbed my waistband this time. I had to give in, or risk my disguise failing. With a growl, I followed her behind the bleachers where she whipped me around into the wall and leaned up against me. I couldn't help but notice how she filled out from the Surge and how voluminous her dreadlocks had become, but she'd also bulked up more than most girls. She must've exercised like crazy once she realized what was happening.

"What do you want bitch?" I demanded as I pushed her off of me, and my damn teenage hormones made me appreciate how her body hourglassed with her wide hips and huge breasts straining her punk-style leather pants and her too-short shirt framed by a leather vest that exposed her tight abs. I didn't take her for the edgy type before now. The fact she was somewhere between 6 and 7 feet tall rather than her previous shortness added on to that.

"I want to fucking set things straight asshole. You, have been a thorn in my side since October. You're not some weakling like all the other sheep here, even if you try to hide it, and I'm sick of it." Hess declared and I felt concern. Did she suspect something? That I'm with the Merchants?

"What are you getting at?" I sneered, and I froze as she pounced on me, grabbing me, forcing her lips on me as she growled and grinded against me. I groaned as she rubbed her thigh against my groin and I squeezed her big tight butt as I returned the kiss with a snarl, picking her up by her thighs and moving down her neck, biting and sucking, making her gasp. I licked her jaw and nibbled on her ear, growling the whole time, until she jumped off me and then punched me in the chest as she backed off with a victorious grin, as if she'd figured something out.

"That you're a Predator. I can fucking feel it, smell it even. Fucking act like it. You wanna protect that weakling Hebert? Do it yourself, don't use other weaklings like you have been." Hess demanded before she lunged at me with a punch, and I dodged, she span around into a kick which I jumped over like this was some sort of kung-fu movie, and then she tackled me into one of the supporting struts for the bleachers. She then kissed me and bit my lip with a snarl while we grabbed at each other and made out violently as she rubbed me all over, feeling me up, before letting me go and licking my blood off her lips. "Do better next time." She demanded and actually had the gall to smack my butt as she sauntered back out into the lights of the gym.

Holy shit that was hot. And infuriating. Next time I would be the one to-. Whoa. WHOA! What the hell?! I panted and put my forehead to a cold metal strut as I fought off the primal haze that came over me like before when Pantera tried to sex me. This is one of the mental and hormonal changes of my new body apparently. I want to kick Hess's ass and then do things to her. I want to hurt her, and _please_ her afterwards. UGH! This wasn't normal human thinking! I shivered, trying to calm down as I licked my false lips and worked up a decent facade of normality which my healing helped before I went back out into the gym, which was almost finished filling up, and I went up to an indifferent Taylor, who was no longer being accosted by Barnes, thankfully.

"Taylor. Are you alright?" I put my hand on her shoulder as I scanned for Hess and Barnes. I saw them oh-so-conveniently on the opposite side of the gym. I flushed at seeing Hess smirking and making gestures with her hands to Barnes that Squealer had once told me was a girl referencing a guy's dick size. That fucking bitch copped a feel to...brag? What? She was visibly pleased as she told Barnes, who blushed as red as her hair and gawked over at me, making me shiver in violation, especially when Hess leered at me with twisted want instead of anger, sensuously licking her lips and wording what my limited lip-reading said was 'you're mine'.

"Andrew, I should be asking if _You_ are alright…." Taylor whispered morosely, and I looked to her for an explanation, but the PA rang out again as someone new took the stand, with the local PRT leader standing next to him. "We'll talk more later." Taylor hissed as the functionaries started yammering about the new administration. Huh, so Blackwell got canned. Sweet.

[Pick Your Poison]

I could NOT get out of that place fast enough! Hess was- she was- HOLY SHIT! She was ignoring Taylor entirely now, that was good, but she would not leave ME alone now! But she isn't attacking me like she did Taylor. No. This was basically sexual assault and harassment. She grabbed my butt when passing in the hallway, she purposefully body-checked me in Phys-Ed which all sports in the school had been collapsed into due to Surge invalidating the school's ability to compete with other schools. How she got away with it, especially cupping my groin on 'accident' when she was getting up was beyond me. Then there was the time she yanked me aside into a girl's bathroom and we had another heated and violent fight/make-out session.

And god damn it, I don't know why, but I actually LIKE it! I'm concerned for my mental health when the bitch I rightfully hate is- GAH! I don't want to think of her like this! Too late! I mentally try to apply brain bleach to the moment I yanked off her top, exposing her black bra and she got all kinds of excited from that, kneeing me in the groin as she ripped off my sweater and- UGH! "Andrew, are you okay?" I thanked whatever god might exist that Taylor showed up before my hormonal teenage mind could keep conjuring sexy thoughts of that bitch, even that she kept a part of my sweater as a 'trophy', smelling it as she left the bathroom with her shirt back on.

"No! I'm not okay! Hess is- she's- ARGH~!" I roared furiously, ignoring anyone who noticed as we were already on the grounds walking towards Taylor's house. "She's sexually harassing me Taylor. She's grabbing me, grinding on me, kissing me. I hate her so fucking much, but she's turning me on and my new body just _loves_ what she's doing to me! I need help Taylor…." I whimpered and shivered. Hess was attacking me in a way I was beyond vulnerable to. I'm scared to death of having sex with my girlfriend, but Hess actually attacks me and I _like_ it?! What's WRONG with me?! If this is just one side-effect of Primal, then I've been a fool to so readily utilize it. No wonder Pantera got so territorial and overprotective after she used it.

"Andrew, I'm sorry. This is happening because of me-." I smacked the back of Taylor's stupid head before she could keep going and held shut the missing spot of my sweater over my abs.

"Don't you fucking dare! I'd do what I did all over again even knowing this would happen. I may feel violated, but some sick part of me enjoys it, so it's not all that bad. I just wish it wasn't her. Now, what did that bitch Barnes say to you?" I demanded of my friend as we walked past the busses, we didn't need them, we'd be jogging for some exercise. Gotta stay in shape.

"She said you were too good for me. That you were wasted on me, and that Sophia wanted you because you're not a worthless sheep like I apparently am. She also mocked me for staying so thin after the Surge while she got even hotter." Taylor groused as we picked up the pace. "I smacked her for that, and she actually honestly laughed with joy for some reason after I did."

"Crazy, crazy, crazy." I declared as we broke out into a full-out run. Us being Winslow students was actually a decent excuse for something so blatantly superhuman what with us running slightly slower than the neighborhood speed limit of 35 miles per hour. "Speaking of crazy, why do we still use the Imperial system of measurement? I mean, seriously? The places it originated all use Metric now, since it's more precise." Measurements of 5 rather than 6, sounds sane.

"Think you could stop working off a system you were raised on?" Taylor asked as a counterpoint, which I had to concede to. I don't think I could move to Metric now.

"Point made." I sighed. "Okay, back on topic. Taylor, I'm being sexually harassed by our mutual enemy, and I don't completely hate it. What are we going to do?" I pleaded, having no idea what to do since resisting only made Hess even more insistent, as if it was what she wanted, and there was no way I was going to just submit to the bitch. Instead, she should just submit to me so we could-. "And there's the fucked-up thought processes. I think she's getting to me."

"Look, Andrew...hold up. Let's test something." Taylor slowed down, I did too, and when I turned to her, she wrapped her arms around my neck, and...kissed me. This seems to be a thing now that I'm no longer emotionally dead. It was a shy and chaste thing, unlike Pantera, unlike Hess. I instinctively grabbed her waist and pulled her into me, making her hum in pleased surprise, before I broke away and panted as I grabbed my head, feeling the haze coming back. "That happen whenever Pantera or Sophia do that?" How can she be so calm after that?

"Yes." I admitted, feeling the urge to keep kissing my friend, to do _other_ fun and delicious things to her. "I am such a disgusting pervert." I shuddered, ashamed, flinching as Taylor puts her hands on my shoulders and looks me in the eyes with an adorably serious expression.

"No. You're a guy. A really special guy with a lot of baggage, but still a guy. One that also happens to be only half human." I snorted in response to that. She'd geeked out yesterday when she saw me, even asked for one of my larger quills to put in a hat or something. "I'm guessing it's your animal instincts taking hold whenever presented with instinctive stimulus. Reptiles and birds are both known for being very determined and sometimes violent in...mating."

"So Hess is triggering my instinctive need for conflict with my intimate encounters. Great. Now I have to worry about hurting Pan or You." At adding Taylor to my list of girls I actually want physical contact with at some point, my avatar's face flushed and Taylor did too, making us both bashfully and awkwardly look away. "Uh...thanks for so boldly testing the waters Taylor."

"Y-you're my best friend Andrew, it's the least I could do...also I've been wanting to kiss you for a while now." Taylor admitted with a shy smile, before clearing her throat. "Right, well, that's over with for now. Let's get going, I want to bulk up. If even Emma worked out to get buff while the Surge was working, I'm not going to stay a wiry lithe beanpole." Taylor started jogging again.

"Tay, you're anything but a beanpole now." I rolled my eyes. Why were girls so competitive over their looks? Besides, the view from back here was more than enjoyable as it was.

[Pick Your Poison]

After getting a ride to Haven on an invisible flying transport, which was what the boxy things were to replace all the older boats and also the vans apparently, I immediately went to Sherrel to ask where my new lab was in the complex, since the motor pool was obviously her's. Turned out the whole building next to it, another massive warehouse, was my new lab. Upon entering, I was on my knees in melodramatic praise as I beheld my new lab. "Oh holy laboratory, place of discovery and wonder. I have found the promised land." I might even be understating it.

It was mostly empty, but had half of the floor space filled with giant vats much larger than the fishery vats I'd been using before, likely to make more quantities of Balcoat and Clearcoat and whatnot. It would also make trying Mannus on larger animals much easier. I got up and jogged around the building, noting that a whole corner was devoted to making a biodiesel farm, and on one side was a massive wall-spanning workbench for me to work from and have multiple projects going at once. All of this was brand new from it's condition and appearance, likely Leet's universal fabricator at work. To think what Dragon's using is a dumbed-down version.

It also turned out that the office in this building was renovated into an apartment, clearly for me. I thought I'd be bunking in that room in the bunkhouse, but apparently those were meant for lieutenants when I questioned Sherrel about that, she was just there when things went to hell on Saturday. "You are a most generous and beautiful goddess." I hammed as I turned off my Guise Belt and knelt down to kiss Sherrel's hand, making her laugh before patting my snout.

"Down boy! Way I hear it, you've got enough girl troubles." Sherrel said with a disturbing amount of pity and understanding. "I know that bitch's type. She's not going to stop until you take it too far, and then you lose. What I find annoying is that she hates your guts, but that apparently gets her motor running. Girl's fucked in the head." Sherrel shook her head with a huff.

"How do you know about this? I haven't said anything, and Taylor went somewhere with Pantera shortly after we got here." Those two were even closer lately. My teenage mind conjured homoerotic fantasies of them becoming romantically interested in one another and I sighed. A guy can dream his two hot female friends were into each other so long as they didn't forget him.

"The Rats. Forget them?" Sherrel teased, and I pulled on my sweater sheepishly, which I just noticed I was wearing in my true form along with my jeans, but my sneakers were gone so my bare feet were on the floor. It was unpleasantly confining, so I took my torn sweater off. "Whoa, kid, stop being such a cuntease." Sherrel chided with a smirk and I felt a little warm.

"Sorry. My quills don't like being pressed down." I shrugged my shoulders and intentionally flared my head and neck plumage to vent some of the heat that had built up. "Ah~ that's better. But yeah, I forgot about them. They sorta blended in at school so much I didn't even notice."

"Which is good, because they saw everything that bitch did to you today, some even recorded a few bits." My plumage flared in embarrassment and Sherrel grinned. "The phone video of the first one under the bleachers was really impressive, the rest was just snippets of text reports on what she's been doing to you." I groaned, hoping against hope my initial makeout session with Hess wouldn't get circulated. I still hate her, I don't want others to think we're together, ew.

"Please don't spread that around." I begged, only to sulk as she smirked in response.

"The Rats are teenagers too Deal, it's far too late for that and they're already planning how to keep her off of you." Sherrel informed me, and I chuffed in annoyance at that last bit.

"Don't. I'll deal with it. Besides it's...not exactly unpleasant once I'm honest with myself." If I was going to get used to being a brutal raptor with powerful violent sexual urges, then I'd rather test my restraint on that bitch Hess before I get properly intimate with Pantera...or Taylor...Bitch... "Uh...Sherrel? I...uh…." Oh god. I'm a Harem Protagonist aren't I? Curse you Aleph Anime!

"Want advice on how to handle multiple lovers at once?" Sherrel casually asked and I flinched.

"That easy to guess?" I asked as I moved to the work area around the obvious intended biodiesel farm. We may be reducing the number of vans, but we still need a fuel source.

"Kid, you're a blushing virgin with several hot girls all vying for your attention in one way or another. Sure, two are fucked-up bitches, but you're currently four for four." Sherrel stated as she moved to the end of the table that, thankfully, had most of what I needed. "First tip: remind each of them that you care about them regularly. Second tip: buy condoms, a lot of them. Third tip: for fuck's sake, man up and fuck Pantera already, she's hungry for it." I fumbled at that.

"W-what the hell?! That only really covers Pan!" Because even if I did decide to buy condoms, what do I have to consider? I've never bought condoms. My father never got around to that and I was a bit too young for that anyway. "Besides, I wouldn't know where to start."

"Oh poor, poor Dealer. Such a hopeless virgin." Sherrel melodramatically sighed and I growled before taking out a q-tip and shoving it into her exposed belly button, wiggling it around. "Ah! The fuck Deal?!" I pulled it out and introduced the bacteria of her belly button into the culture dish before adding the ground cannabis. "Oh, right. Anyway, this won't do."

"So what do you suggest?" I'm open to any ideas, because seriously, I'm worried and curious.

"Well, first, whip it out, we've gotta get a measurement before I send you to the pharmacy with Skids on a condom run." I nearly knocked over the setup as Sherrel held up her tape measure.

"Are you fucking serious?!" I demanded, my plumage in full flare and my body heating up.

"Dead serious. Now drop em and spread em." Sherrel demanded as she snapped her tape.


	39. Chapter 29

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Agitator 4.2**_

[Wednesday, November 24, 2010]

All of Monday and most of yesterday were such embarrassing and frustrating days for me. After Sherrel actually measured my junk, she sent me to the pharmacy with Skidmark, who unmasked and told me his name is Adam Mustain. His justification for unmasking then, was quote; 'you don't buy sex products suggested by a stranger' and then proceeded to give me 'The Talk' which my dad never got the chance to give me, and mom was too nervous to touch on that with her son who looks like his late father, which I could understand, too squicky.

Still, getting 'The Talk' from Skidmark of all people as he used the measurements Sherrel gave him to help me pick out suitably sized condoms was incredibly surreal as well as disturbing, I never pegged Adam for the considerate type. I was also embarrassed that the clerk on the checkout was a middle-aged woman who visibly looked intrigued at the fact I was buying 'jumbo' ribbed condoms. I had also blushed up to my false ears when Adam tossed 'cherry flavored' condoms in the purchases at the last second with a winning teasing grin. Asshole.

The following Tuesday at school was even more stressful. Hess was taking every opportunity to pull me aside so we could fight/makeout and was getting a bit dangerously rough with my Guise Belt. She seemed to take my protectiveness of my pants as a challenge and I spent a good portion of the day defending my chastity, as well as my identity, from the fierce 'Predator' bitch. After school however, Taylor informed me, much to our shared shock, that when she mouthed off Barnes and her cronies, she approved of Taylor, quote: 'finally standing up for yourself'. What is up with these crazy girls? Did they secretly have ladyboners for us this whole time?

When we got to Haven, Taylor and Pantera went someplace again, Pantera using a Guise Belt once more to appear how she used to before the Primal. Where do they go? When I asked them, they shared a knowing glance and giggled as they walked back to the transports. Following that, I got to work making a bulk batch of Balcoat, Clearcoat, and Mannus in three of the sealable vats of my lab, meanwhile I asked Leet if he could somehow manage to turn my Guise Belt into a collar, or anklet, or something unlikely to get ripped off by an amorous girl.

Starting today however, I wouldn't have to deal with Hess getting me riled up for 5 straight days since today started Thanksgiving Break. Tomorrow was a Truce day, but today was normal. The only reason I think Winslow got students to come in for two days was for business purposes. Schools don't make money if they don't have students attending after all. Regardless, I had all of today to-. "Hey, hey, hey! This is a delicate mixture!" I hissed at my unexpected visitor.

"Sorry." Kaden apologized as she quickly backed away from my workspace, which was currently being used to remake my expanding fog. Like Quasimodo, I'm not planning to stay cooped up in here forever. "I was just curious." Ms. Anders was still wearing that grey pantsuit she came to us in, but she was without the vest/jacket thing and was only wearing a blue blouse right now.

"Curiosity killed the cat." If this process was interrupted, it actually could explode. The chemical process of rapidly converting water to fog on contact with the air was volatile. It'd take hours to disperse the fog if this went off in here, and I'd be set back even more.

"But satisfaction brought it back." Ms. Anders replied, and I snorted as I absently nudged her away with my long tail. "Regardless, I have some questions and requests." Lovely, questions.

"Why don't you go and bother one of the others? I'm generally left out of the loop unless I'm necessary to something." I replied as I moved the chemical mixture from it's vial into an injector.

"Well when I asked them, they told me to talk to you. I want to take Surge and Stim so I can get back out there and patrol safer." I nearly fumbled the injector as I moved to set it down.

"Okay. First. Why? You're the most powerful Blaster in the city, and second to only Legend in the country. Second. Why? The Empire's practically gone and you're still under our protection, not a member of the crew, protecting you is easiest when you're here, not floating around like a tiny little pixy." At my mocking her petite size, Ms. Anders shined a bit by flaring her power.

"I'm trying to be a hero! I've been trying for a while now. Didn't anyone mention the times I helped you guys out when you were raiding the ABB?" At my bland indifference and lack of response, she huffed. "Whatever. I was aiming to take out the ABB because of all the damage they were doing, so I sided with the Merchants on that front."

"But, you never hit the Empire." I guessed before turning back to my work and injecting the chemical into the blank bug bomb, another fresh tool thanks to Leet. I opted out of using anything overly sophisticated since what I had before was more than good enough.

"Well, no, I haven't. But that was because they used to be my guys, you know? Awkward and everything. I didn't want to just outright betray them when they had been so good to me." Well Ms. Anders, doesn't that sound suspicious? Still harboring sentiment for our enemies?

"If they were so good to you, why did you leave?" I asked rhetorically, and as I expected, she didn't answer. I finished the fogger and shook it, before placing it in a pressurized and sealed glass dome on the counter. "Thought so. Besides, from the reports, the Empire is done with, all that's happening is chaos from the gang splitting and fighting amongst themselves. Last I heard, Othalla surrendered herself to the Protectorate, Rune is in critical condition, and someone has heard rumors Crusader was seen in Providence. Why are you even still here?"

"Because I want to join the Merchants now. You guys are doing the right thing, and even if you guys aren't heroes in the government's eyes, you are in the eyes of the people." Ms. Anders' words had me interested as I held up a wristwatch, aimed it at the contained fogger, and pressed some buttons. With a snap, the can filled the sealed glass with fog, making the woman flinch and back off. The remote trigger was something Leet suggested, good to see it works.

"Membership is dependant on Squealer and Skidmark's decision." I reiterated as I moved the canister full of the chemical into a dispenser with water in another canister next to it, closing the casing and placing a bug bomb in to be filled. Convenience at its best, at least for the foggers.

"They still said I had to ask you though." I paused at that bit. Why would she have to ask me as well? I'm not one of the leaders. I just supply us and...have my own separate group from the rest. When did that happen? I guess I am a big-shot, what'll I name my branch of the crew? They were rarely referred to, but Skidmark had his Burners and Squealer her Grease Monkeys. The former often tagged along with Skids, and the latter tended to stick to the motor pools.

"So you want approval for membership then. Should've just brought that up directly. You'll have to wait for the Surge or Stim though. I lost all of my stock when I had to destroy my old lab." Which, now I think of it, might not have avoided leaking numerous potentially hazardous materials through the drainage channel into the drain system. Whatever, it was already done so no point in worrying. Wait...I just now realized my turtles and Slinky weren't in their terrariums either! I only had time and mind to check on the test rats, but I remember they were gone too!

"Uh...you okay? You look like something terrible has happened." Ms. Anders noted as she nervously backed away from my work area as I felt myself twitching in horror and worry.

"I blew up my lab, where I had several reptiles and rats, only they were ALL gone when I destroyed the lab, and the nearest place they could've escaped, was the same way any spills would've drained." I sprinted towards my apartment, Ms. Anders floated after me as she became the blindingly bright Purity. I dashed into my spartan 2-bedroom apartment and dug around in the kitchen drawers for the new burner phone Sherrel told me was put here.

Upon finding it, I growled at seeing it was still packaged, and viciously cut it open with my claws before powering it up and speeding through the setup. "Um...I have my own phone." Purity had the belated and worried courtesy to inform me, and I hissed at her as I held out my hand, which she then rummaged around her incandescent self before dropping a smart phone in my palm, making me growl and hand it back. I had no clue how to use such a complicated thing.

"Dial Squealer." I demanded, pacing nervously and fretting as I ruffled my head plumage.

"Hey, Squealer. Uh, I talked to Dealer but he realized something important, so, uh, here." Purity nervously held out her phone and I carefully held it in confusion, until she positioned it in my hands and moved it to my head. "Jesus, you kids are so technologically hampered these days."

"Shut up. Not to you Squealer, I don't know how to use these fancy smartphones. Anyway, Bad News. Remember I blew up my lab before trying to bail? Well I just now realized, days too late, that ALL of my lab's test animals, including my pet turtles and Slinky the snake were free before then. The nearest escape point for animals that size was the drain the drainage channel in the floor led to. The same drain a whole dipping vat of Mannus and possibly Surge among a whole other slew of things would have been dumped into while I was prepping the lab to blow." I leaned against the marble countertop- (Seriously Leet? Fucking MARBLE?!) -and awaited Squealer's reply, which judging by her hiss and cursing was as bad as I figured.

"Fu~ck that is NOT good. Shit, so you might've unleashed several macho rat-people, four turtle-people, and a snake-girl on the city?" Squealer rhetorically recapped, at which I sighed.

"All without any education, well, besides the rats but I doubt listening to english audio books would help much, I was still testing that when shit went to hell." I could only hope that the rats had enough intelligence to realize something was wrong, chose then to break out, and likely due to their developed brains, would try to save the turtles and snake out of empathy. Hopefully none of them became Slinky's meal, but then again there were seven rats and only one snake.

"Shit, I'll put out an alert and ask Leet if he could make and duplicate a remote drone of some sort so the Peepers could search the drain and sewer systems. Fuck Deal, you just added more work to our heaping pile of festering shit." Great, thanks Squeals, as if I needed to feel even worse. Oh, hello guilt! I haven't felt you in a long time. Didn't miss you in retrospect.

"Sorry. I've already got one vat each of Kevlar Balcoat and Clearcoat ready if that helps anything." I've seriously got to come up with more stuff, but I'm going to be hard-pressed to get another safe Nutrigel culture ready by the end of today, even with the sample some Creepers managed to skim from the culture vats at the fishery before they and the Peepers finished rigging it to blow while the Jeepers kept as much of our resources out of the law's hands as they could. We've lost dozens of people thanks to all of this, most of them veteran crew members.

"That helps, but it just means we can get some idle hands working again. Especially once we finish the first fleet of Skiffs and leave future copies to Leet's fabricator." So the van-sized flying boxes are called Skiffs, good to know. "Regardless, are you ready for your date?"

"W-what date?!" When I asked Pantera if she had any plans for today, she said she was busy. I am actually looking forward to getting intimate now that I'm more comfortable with the idea, but I was planning to see if I couldn't take her out somewhere first now that we have the Guise Belts.

"Oh those sly girls, making me be the messenger. Go see Parian in her workshop in Warehouse 4, she should have your new costume and a suitable outfit for tonight ready. Good luck." Before I could demand more information, Sherrel hung up, and I growled as I tossed Purity's phone back to her, which she fumbled to catch as she cursed until she had it in hand.

"You don't throw smartphones! This thing cost almost 600 dollars!" Purity fumed as she checked over her phone before putting it back in whatever pocket she had it in.

"Whatever, don't use something that expensive unless you're in private. Regardless, consider yourself a member of the Merchants. You get your orders from Skidmark or Squealer, if they send you to me...I have no clue what to do with your skillset right now, so we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. Now I have an appointment apparently, good day." I dismissed the woman before I pulled my jeans back up out of habit since my scales were smoother than skin.

[Pick Your Poison]

Wow. Parian is _good_ at her work. All I had to go off of before was Pantera's sexy catsuit, but this was awesome. "It breathes. Oh thank god it breathes." Somehow, my new billowing Benjamin money-print hooded overcoat was both ridiculously tough and it breathed, which my quills appreciated. I had happily donned my reborn costume, which was composed of the aforementioned open overcoat, I was shirtless because quills, and my new olive Kevlar cargo pants had even more pockets and came with a utility belt, another reason for me to get a disguise collar, preferably a punk one with spikes. Anyway, I had no shoes, because claws.

The topper however was a rebirth of my plague doctor mask, only it was obviously a stylized blend between my new saurian image with a modern day raptor, aka a bird of prey, mostly to be used as a source of oxygen while using my deployables. When this was all further reinforced by Balcoat, I was going to be back in the saddle. Wait...couldn't I use Balcoat on my scales like Tie-Dye to make ALL of me tougher? Hm, not on my quills though, I'd have to have someone carefully weave through-. "Earth to supervillain, is it satisfactory?" Oh, right, Parian.

"Beyond expectation." I earnestly praised as I gave a full range of motion, even moving my tail as much as possible to make sure the pants and coat didn't interfere, since she even split the back like a horse-riding coat for it. "I am going to cherish this enough that I'll get pissed at anyone messing it up." Because it's seriously hard to find clothes when you have a tail.

"On that note, I'll make some backups. Skidmark already footed the bill." Oh that's right, Parian may be under our house, but she's still a Rogue, so she's charging for her services. That's fair.

"Thank you. Squealer also mentioned something else for a...date?" I hoped she was in the loop, because I did not feel comfortable talking about this with a stranger.

"I'm aware. It's an...interesting outfit." Parian sounded uncomfortable, and I felt my plumage flare under my deceptively light overcoat and my body heat up at all the black artificial leather she took out of a box she had sitting on her worktable. "She...also commissioned...this…." Parian sounded embarrassed as she took out….

"I-is that…?" Oh god, what is Pantera plotting for tonight?!

"A thick studded leather collar, with leash? Yeah...I can't believe she actually got me to do this…." Parian muttered, but the shifting she did under her victorian era clothes was clue enough for me as to what my girlfriend might've done to get the rogue to make these.

"She molested you didn't she?" I groaned, rubbing my black-masked face before remembering I was wearing it. What did she use for these? They're way too lightweight to be normal.

"N-no! Nothing like that! She just...gave me an enticing offer…." Parian squirmed before using her power to toss the heavy leather outfit at me. "Now get going, she said she'd be waiting at the Skiffs." My mind immediately went to the gutter at what offer might be 'enticing' to her….

[Pick Your Poison]

"How the hell did Parian get my measurements so accurately?" I walked out into the yard towards the landing area, nervously adjusting my leathers. Tight leather pants, check. No shirt, studded leather vest, check. Guise Belt to make me look human but still be fitted perfectly, check. B-b-bondage collar, with the leash in my pocket with my phone...check. A few condoms in the wallet in my other pocket out of caution, check. God, I look like some biker chick's boy toy.

I flushed at hearing several women across the yard giving me wolf whistles and woops. At least the Guise Belt gave my avatar boots since footwear was a no-go for me. "There's the sexy man of the hour~!" Crowed Pantera's voice, and I was further warmed up by the fact she was wearing a female version of my outfit, thankfully with an intentionally ratty shirt. Her human disguise looked just as attractive as ever. "C'mon out here girl! He's ready!" What?

"I'm not letting him see me like this!" Wait, Taylor?! What's she doing here this late anyway?!

"Ugh, hold on." Pantera stomped over behind the Skiff she was standing by. "We've been over this! Woman up!" I winced at hearing Taylor squeak and be followed by a metallic click.

"But this is embarrassing!" Taylor complained, and I sputtered in shock at seeing Taylor wearing a similar outfit as us being led out with a leash by Pantera, a very familiar leash. "Sorry Andrew. She somehow got me to agree to this." Taylor nervously fidgeted, avoiding eye contact.

"Hush girl, good dogs don't speak out of turn." Pantera chided my best friend playfully, before she held her spare hand out towards me. "Fetch me the leash boy."

"W-what kind of fucked-up S&M shit is this Pan?!" I demanded, before Pantera growled, closed with me quickly, and kneed me in the gut, knocking the wind from me before she grabbed my hair and pulled me up, kissing me fiercely and working me over from shock and disgust straight to pleased and aroused. When we parted for air, I growled and pressed against her, but she held me back with a hand on my chest, looking me in the eyes with determination

"Leash. Boy." Pantera demanded of me, and I growled, but fished out the leash and gave it to her. When she clipped it onto my collar, and tugged me onward, a delicious thrill shot through me, and I couldn't help the goofy grin on my face. "Good boy. Now come along pets, we have another playmate to go collect." Pantera stated playfully as she pulled me and Taylor behind her on our respective leashes. Somehow, this felt incredibly satisfying and I don't get why.

"We're going to go pick up Bitch. Pan and I have been visiting her the past few days, mostly because Pan figures she could use her help with you." Taylor informed me as we walked through the door into the spacious boxy flying ship and sat down, Pan still holding the leashes.

"I noticed Bitch was interested in retrospect, but why her? Knowing you Pan, I'm surprised we're not abducting Hess for this weird party." Hopefully not, she's a Ward, though they don't know….

"Um...I may have originally planned for that, but was talked out of it by Taylor. She managed to sway my plans at least that much." Pantera shrugged, and I sighed in relief over that.

"Well, what're we doing? This is supposed to be a date of some sort?" What kind of date involves leather outfits, collars, and leashes? Please not a strip club. Please no.

"Yep. A four-way date with the three most important people in my life. At least once Bitch realizes that I'm 'Best Girl' here." Pantera tugged on our leashes and purred. "After all, you're both already mine. What's one or two more?" I felt my heart race at the greedy declaration, and I looked sidelong at Taylor, who looked about as flustered as I felt.

"W-wait. Is this a Reverse Harem?!" Taylor asked in surprise, and I had to wonder where Taylor learned about the sister genre to Harem Anime. "I thought we were all after Andrew!" Uh….

"Yep! Andrew here may have sparked it, but me~yow this kitty has caught the canary cage." Pantera declared with a hungry lick of her lips, and I shivered, feeling enjoyably weak at being played with like this. "Now, as for the date, we're actually going to a small rock concert."

"There's a concert in town?" I asked with interest. I hadn't heard anything, but then again I've been busy. What band would even tour through our humble cesspit of a city?

"Yep, some heavy metal band that's been really popular over in Boston lately. I've heard some of their stuff and they rock. Bitch already knows so we're just gonna stop by and pick her up." Pantera declared as she crossed her legs and leered at us. "Now, let's play while we wait. Roll over!" Pantera playfully ordered, and I looked over at Taylor with bemusement.

Just what have we all gotten dragged into? Seriously? When did Pantera hijack my love life?


	40. Interlude 4a

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Huntress**_

[Wednesday, November 24, 2010]

The skinhead had the misfortune to be trying to break into the back of a pawn shop on the route of her Wards patrol. She had quickly jumped down from the rooftops and tackled him into the ground before punching him hard enough in the jaw she heard it crack, ending the encounter rather efficiently. She growled angrily, zip-tying yet another pathetic worm that dared pretend to be a Predator. "Ugh, all this padding is getting in the way." She complained as she tugged on her full-body covering dark costume, all armor and dark tones to hide her better at night.

But Shadow Stalker had undergone drastic changes lately, her dark outfit had to be altered to downplay her new hourglass figure as much as possible by adding padding which made her look more like a guy. The PR department had even gone as far as forcing her to compress her breasts somewhat and having to deal with the resulting leakage from her nipples. This was just yet another sticking point in her hatred for the Protectorate and their PRT lackeys. But that was a small price to pay to finally have a body that matched her spirit, even if she wasn't of age yet.

"Geez Stalker. I get you're still getting used to all that strength but try not to break the jaws and legs of every crook we run across." Kid Win, a whiny ass pansy bitch who had almost no spine complained from his place on his hoverboard overhead as Stalker carelessly tossed the fourth E88 ganger they'd nabbed tonight towards the opening of the alley for BBPD to pick up later.

"Then fucking move faster you dipshit. You have goddamn laser pistols, fucking use them!" Stalker demanded heatedly, barely able to restrain her boiling rage. She was much more on edge, because for a while now she's been under a magnifying glass, which rankled, but now when she finally finds a satisfying outlet for her frustrations, both with anger and her sudden explosive need for sexual gratification, she's dragged away from him for a stupid holiday break.

"Shit, calm down! Do I gotta call Militia on you again?" Kid Win flinched as he backed away like the cowardly sheep he was, and Stalker was more irritated at him doing it instead of asserting himself. Fucking spineless little bitch! That's not how a Hero should behave!

"No! Fuck no! Ugh! Just shut up and let's go." As much catharsis as there was in wrestling and sparring with Miss Militia, she didn't want the perceptive woman to realize it was 'Boy Troubles' that had her so on edge. She wanted to hunt down Andrew, find him, and CLAIM him! This burning in her guts was unbearable and she wanted a worthwhile guy to-. Stalker shuddered and leaned into a wall. Fuck Kid Win seeing, she ached with want and need that a man could never understand. "Whatever, just tell Militia it's...girl problems.".

Hearing Kid Win gag a bit was satisfying in a petty and childish way, but Stalker would take relief in whatever form she could right now. She just wished she carried out her urges yesterday so she wouldn't be dealing with this today. She even took a dose of her mom's monthly pill before school and had condoms Emma got for her in her pocket, but Andrew was adamantly protective of his pants, so she at least let him have that. She could respect someone's boundaries at least that much when it came to physical intimacy. Especially since she Triggered when-.

No. Never again. She won't be that weak little girl again, but neither would she become _Him_. "I've buzzed the Console and Missy says ew, but she's passing along your situation to Militia." Well what do you know? The spineless wonder was useful for once. "You know Stalker, if you have any problems, we're here for you, ya know?" Ugh, again with this shit?

"Yeah, sure, like you all were right from the start." Stalker sarcastically bit before groaning and rubbing her muscular stomach, wincing at the burning twinge deep within her core. After the Surge, the Time of the Month she's been experiencing since the weekend was far worse than she'd ever had it. Also she couldn't stop thinking about Andrew. He pissed her off in a _good_ way that she didn't fully get, but relished regardless. She really liked when he bit her and _growled_ -.

"Shadow Stalker, this is Militia." Came over her comm, and she sighed as she prepared to admit her weakness to a fellow woman. It scathed, but damn it, this fucking sucked donkey dick.

"Stalker, permission to be frank?" Stalker requested, and waited until Militia gave an affirming tone. "My period is fucking _killing_ me here! It's like I've got a hot rock twisting in my guts."

"You should've mentioned it earlier Stalker, we have provisions for situations like this." MIss Militia chided/comforted, and while usually she didn't care for pampering, Stalker needed it.

"It never stopped me before, and I had no clue that what I felt yesterday was just a warm-up! I don't wanna ditch a patrol, but can you at least give us a shorter route?" Shadow Stalker firmly believed that while the Wards barely did more than publicity patrols, they still did good like she and Kid Whine were doing tonight. Ever since Medhall blew, the E88 had been really scattered.

"Certainly, if Kid Win doesn't object?" Militia pointedly asked, getting a scoff out of the tinker.

"Miss big dark and edgy needs to get comfortable ASAP, I'm not getting in the way of that." What do you know? The scrawny runt could actually have some bite to him.

"Very well, head in a straight path back towards the PRT building, following the roads and alleys in a zig-zag to maintain patrol. You'll also be passing through a small concert being held in the park on the way." At getting the new route from Miss Militia, Shadow Stalker grunted as she phased out of the physical realm after a jump, which with her new strength, sent her practically flying into the air, where she materialized and landed back on a roof, using her power to lessen her impact with deft grace in spite the the extra padding limiting her movement somewhat.

"C'mon then, let's hurry. Sooner i'm in a nice cold shower or bath the better." Stalker complained before sprinting and jumping across to another roof with ease, Kid Win following from afar and higher up to maintain vigil. It took barely ten minutes at their pace to make it to the edge of the park Miss Militia had mentioned, it was surprisingly packed with excited fans and the music was roaring with vim and vigor that pounded through the air. "Whoa, nice. Gotta ask for their name."

"That's Godsmack, they're from Lawrence and are really big over in Boston." Stalker looked behind her at Kid, who shrugged with a grin. "I gotta have music when I'm tinkering, helps get the juices pumping." Huh, she didn't take him for having good taste in music.

"No wonder your room's soundproofed." Stalker snarked, before jumping across the street and using her power to float down gently to the ground. "We're cutting through."

"Uh, we're still technically on patrol." Stalker rolled her eyes at Kid Win's concern.

"And this is a good chance for us to make a PR move. Also, mosh pits." Stalker grinned under her mask, she may be in pain, but this looked like a fun gig to mingle with for a few moments.

"I don't know if this sort of place is a good idea for PR." Kid mused with concern, but still floated after the ex-vigilante from overhead to avoid getting mobbed. Stalker ignored him, enjoying the energy of the standing crowd as fans screamed, bounced, and practically tackled each other in a frenzied uncoordinated slamdance. It looked fun, so despite her abdominal pain, she joined in.

Even with her size and strength, her current suit was padded enough to offset her potential damage, and there were several tall people here anyway. So she slammed her way towards the nearest one, who had a head of long luscious red hair that got her excited because it reminded her of Andrew. Once she reached the guy, she gladly slammed into him from behind. She was grinning until he turned around, and suddenly she froze, looking up into the green eyes of the guy she's been so interested in lately. "Stalker?" She snapped out of her daze at hearing Andrew's voice.

"Uh, yeah, I was just passing by and noticed the show." Don't look down. Don't look down. Don't look-oh~ yeah, that bod. Stalker licked her lips, longing to just jump the sexy Predator she viewed to be worthwhile in front of everyone, claim him as hers. She really liked the collar too, it suited him what with the torn leather leash dangling to his pecs, were those teeth marks? And that vest, hiding absolutely nothing and highlighting his muscles so deliciously.

"Well it's a good show, but I'm getting tired of the crowd. Wanna go get some air?" Andrew's casual agreement to her presence made her core clench and her chest flutter. Oh god yes. She followed him as he so easily forced his way out of the mosh pit with an air of casual indifference she just lusted after. Her eyes were glued to his rear and she bit her lip at the tight leather pants hiding exactly nothing of those buns of steel.

"Hey, Stalker! I thought we were heading back!" Kid Win, since he was the most colorfully dressed person there, was getting plenty of attention and signing autographs at the edge of the pit, but she flipped him off, ignoring him in favor of company she actually wanted.

"Whew, that's fun but I prefer to have some space. You like heavy metal?" Andrew asked as they got out of the crowds at the main parking lot on the edge of the park and he leaned against a van, tilting the thing easily with his weight. Oh she liked that, intentional or not on his part.

"Hell yeah. It gets the blood pumping, good for action scenes in movies too." Good action scenes, not those boring old kung-fu movies with the oriental music stings.

"I know right?" Andrew sniffed the air, and he quirked an eyebrow. "A little hot under the collar?" Hess felt her whole body just roar with heat at him noticing her state in such a simple and predatory way. He knew she was randy from just _smelling_ her, oh god _yes_. "Alright Hess, cool your jets." Sophia froze again, this time at him outing her, at least in private. "I can smell you Hess. I can also hear you, there's almost no difference between you now and yesterday."

Stalker quickly turned on her fury, worried for herself and her family. "You fucking tell anyone-!"

"I would've already if it would do anything besides rain a ton of shit on my family and I. I've known for a while, it's not hard to figure out since you let it all hang out. Besides, I'm not that vindictive. I'm not my ancestors. I'm not gonna hang you from the nearest tree and slit your arteries so the trees can drink." Andrew leaned forward, and even though he was just a few inches taller, it still felt like she was a tiny mouse looking up at a lion. "But if you keep pushing me, I won't hesitate to escalate until you either back the fuck off...or make nice."

She couldn't take it anymore. She tackled him, pulled her mask to the side of her head, and began vigorously making out with him. He snarled and reciprocated as he felt for the door handle, ripping it open without consideration for the lock, and pulled her into the back of the surprisingly large vehicle. She bit the crook of his neck once they were horizontal, sucking, trying to mark him, make him _hers_ when there was a knock at the doors, making her sit up from her position straddling his waist, and frantically pull her mask over her face before the door opened to reveal a young black woman who put her own figure to shame. "Taylor's gone!"

"WHAT?!" Andrew roared, making Stalker flinch and roll off of him before he lunged out of the van and grabbed the busty bodybuilder woman's shoulders. "What do you mean?!" At his demand, she handed him her phone. "Who is this?!" His face became even angrier and he snarled. "You are the only person he has ready access to that knew! Get the fuck out of there and grab everything you can! Head to the place I told you about while I try to save my best friend from your fucking boss." Andrew closed the phone. "How did it happen?"

The woman pulled on her long mane and fretted as she recalled. "Tats said Rachel was keeping an eye out while Taylor went to the bathroom, and she got tasered by a few guys in all-black armored outfits! She was still conscious when they went in and subdued Taylor and carried her off with her drugged or something. She has their scent but she's worried that without her dogs she won't be able to do anything, that's as much that Rachel managed to tell Tats before she hung up." The woman informed, and Stalker was bewildered why hearing about a woman named Rachel and dogs together sounded familiar.

"Fuck! Alright, alert the boys, we're going hunting." Andrew declared with such fury and determination that it turned Stalker on even more. After that he rounded on her, making her flinch. "You feel like being a hero you bitch?" That quickly got Stalker's hackles up.

"I am a Hero!" The fact that Andrew thought otherwise of her surprisingly stung.

"Prove it. Come with us, grab your tagalong. We're gonna go save your usual victim." Andrew and the woman pulled out their phones and started dialing, so Stalker took that as her cue to go get Kid Win and tell him they were going to make a drastic detour that will definitely get them disciplined or even arrested. She didn't need to look hard, he was still up in the air on his board, though sitting on it now and bobbing his head to the music.

"Kid! Get down here! We've got work to do!" Her aching core be damned, Hebert be damned, the Protectorate be damned, she was going to prove to Andrew that she was a Hero.

"What's going on?!" Kid demanded as he flew down to her, and followed her towards where she last saw Andrew and the woman, only to see they were missing, but she kept going in the hopes of seeing them.

"A girl from my school was here, but her friends say some guys in dark armor kidnapped her while she was in the bathroom." Stalker jumped on top of another van, looking around frantically.

"Got it, calling-."

"Call fucking nobody! Listen, we've got a civilian to save, and no time to waste. Her friends seem connected and already have someone following the kidnappers. They were around here just a few-." Stalker halted at a boxy graffiti detailed metal thing appearing in front of them out of nowhere, and the obvious door on the side popped out and slid back, revealing what the latest reports said was the new saurian Dealer, and his pet cat Pantera in familiar biker leathers.

"Get in! Bitch is hot on their heels and I don't want either the girl to get hurt or Bitch to try and save her herself and get fucked over!" Dealer ordered, and even though the voice was different, Stalker felt her core clench the same way, and knew. Holy hell he somehow turned her on even more for some reason. He actually looked like he could rip her to pieces with ease. Yum.

"The Merchants! Stalker, we need to-." Stalker didn't bother listening, she jumped up to the door and took Dealer's claw as she climbed in. "-Stalker!"

"Either get in and help or fuck off and be proof that the title of Hero is worth shit!" Stalker demanded, and with hesitance, Kid Win hovered to the door and got in, the sliding door slamming closed as the boxy long airship effortlessly and seamlessly rose up and began flying towards the Docks. "Good to see someone in the kiddie scouts actually has some balls."

"I have more than you know." Kid Win snarled, his visible mouth curled in a sneer. "I'm reporting this, hell or high water I'll suffer to make sure your behavior is punished."

"Strong words Kid, been getting lessons from Halbeard? Better back them up or I'll call you a fucking pussy." Stalker declared, willing to take some punishment if it meant doing the right thing. She'd been getting punished a lot lately, school one of the few things she had freedom in, and now, with her school life suddenly blending with her cape life, she had nothing left after this, and she knew. Now or never, if she was going to juvie for something, it was damn well gonna be for sticking to her principals. Even if those principals included trying to impress a hot guy….

"If they ship you off we'll pull you out for helping us Stalker." Dealer stated with a sneer on his exposed saurian face. "You may be a bitch, but if you at least have a good strong leash guiding you, it seems you have some redeeming values past your powers." Stalker was speechless.

"Boss! Mush was close to the route the fuckers were taking T-the girl on! He's rushing after Bitch, but it looks like the fuckers have run into a warehouse." Reported an actual rhino from the front cabin of the large vehicle, with an honest-to-god hairy pig next to him.

"Tell the Peepers on watch to keep Bitch from going in until Mush gets there to make an opening." Dealer ordered, and the rhino relayed into the radio inside the pilot cabin. While that was going on, Stalker looked out the closed bus windows that lined the sides of the transport, and felt baffled by how fast they were going, much faster than a helicopter.

"So besides having Mush smash in do you guys even have a plan to rescue this person?" Kid Win demanded as he fidgeted nervously, clearly uncomfortable with the relative state of undress Pantera and Dealer were in. Stalker on the other hand was enjoying the view again.

"Usually smashing in works really well. But this time, with your help, we can at least make sure she's safe." Dealer said as he looked at Stalker, she felt warm as his sharp eyes gauged her. "When we're over the warehouse, drop in and take them by surprise the same time Mush crashes through a wall or door. Try to find and secure the girl before she comes to any harm."

"Got it." Stalker responded with determination as she drew her crossbows and prepared them. She looked out the nearest window and noted that they were already well into the Docks, and soon the transport halted eerily quickly without them feeling the motion at all, which was uncanny and felt wrong, but was really cool she had to admit.

"Boss, Mush has made it, Bitch is ramping up, and the Peepers don't think they can keep her back for long." The rhino called back, and with that, Dealer threw open the door and pointed.

"Stalker, go!" Dealer's demand made her jump without hesitation, and she grinned at the adrenaline of jumping from so high, crossing her arms in a full dive with her crossbows in hand. It took several seconds from the height they'd ascended, but she flipped right-side-up and went intangible to slow her descent, just in time to see a hulking monstrosity made of shifting trash and metal cans crash through the side of the building, and a massive lizard-dog rip open the front doors before she fell through the roof, and solidified in time to land in the office.

Stalker's training was all that saved her from being bisected by a sweeping laser beam as she tossed herself backwards and then fired her semi-auto crossbows at the offending criminal. Whoever he worked for, they supplied good armor, and the bolts just bounced off his chestplate. They still hit with enough force that he staggered backward, and that was enough time for Stalker to acrobatically twist herself to her feet without using her arms, and use her power to selectively make her crossbows intangible, fire, and then revert just as the bolts would impact.

The professional crook screamed in pain before quickly going limp from the fast-acting tranquilizers injecting into his pectorals, and without further preamble, she ran out onto the catwalks to look down at the sight of who had to be Mush and Bitch covered in vicious red burn lines from the laser rifles of the kidnappers, but they were still handily ragdolling the mooks once they reached them, so Stalker quickly ran through the offices searching for Hebert.

Her search upstairs was fruitless, but figuring there wasn't anywhere else to hold her, she hurried to the disposal area. "-GOD PLEASE! LET ME OUT!" Stalker stumbled at hearing Hebert wail so desperately, screaming in agony. "IT BURNS! PLEASE! AH~!" Stalker rushed to what looked like the toxic disposal area and tried to locate the source of her former victim's torturous screams, even phasing through the abandoned containers to-.

She woke up, bewildered. A pulsing migraine in her head made her groan as she tried to get back up and remember where she was and what she was doing. Then she screamed shrilly in fear at a lizard-cockroach-thing the size of a fucking rat pouncing on her, but when she went intangible, it did too! She wrestled with the terrifying impossibility before kicking it off of her and into an exploded disposal bin where it's keening screams died quickly.

Stalker, huffing and coming down from the spike of fear-inspired adrenaline, stumbled to the leaking bin, only to back off in a hurry of realizing the liquid, which was visibly bubbling on the concrete floor, was fucking acid. Shit. Those fucks must've realized they were on to them so tried to dispose of Hebert quickly. Poor Hebert...she didn't deserve to go like this, not since she was finally showing some teeth like everyone seemed to be doing since the Merchant's cleaned up and started becoming proper Predators.

Stalker's moment of sudden remorse was interrupted by the deafening buzzing of an enormous swarm of insects that began pouring through every crevice, and she screamed as they flowed over her without a chance to flee, but for some reason they didn't hurt her, instead somehow mustering the incredible strength for their tiny bodies to haul her through the warehouse with incredible speed, and to be propped up in front of a disgusting and hideous humanoid mass of bugs that seemed both amorphous and solid at the same time. Stalker felt sick looking at it, and the rapidly vanishing corpses of the kidnappers. "Thanks for trying to save me." Hebert?!


	41. Chapter 30

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Agitator 4.3**_

[Wednesday, November 24, 2010]

After I sent Stalker down, we descended in the Skiff until we were about to land, but by then all hell had broken loose. What had seemed to be a standard brute smackdown from the sounds of it, turned into sudden eerie silence, followed by what seemed to be every damn bug in the area swarming in and over the warehouse. We had the good reaction to slide the door shut and keep in the air as we helplessly watched what looked like something out of the Exodus swarm the place holding my best friend, Bitch, and Mush. Oh, and Hess, but she could go intangible.

"Who the hell's power is that?!" I demanded as the waves of ground bugs finished pouring into the building, and what had to be a whole city block worth of bugs was concentrated in one spot. This was with it getting colder. I shudder to imagine the numbers in the summer.

"No clue boss! I've never heard of anyone with bug control as a power!" Rocksteady nervously answered, getting me to snarl and pace as I kept looking out the windows, which despite us being invisible, were still crawling with a litany of flying insects, mostly flies and sweat bees, which was weird, unless there was an empty lot for them to nest in nearby.

"Great, so the kidnappers probably had this mystery cape waiting to strike, and now we've likely lost one of our own, an ally, and the girl." I snarled as I whirled on a visibly pale and shuddering Kid Win. Fuck, he was about my age, wasn't he? How come he's taking this so hard compared to me? I don't have the advantage of government training. "Kid, get your bosses on the horn and-." I was interrupted by the bugs on the windows moving in a disturbingly organized fashion.

We watched as the bees and flies moved around to roughly spell 'HELP ME' and then move off the windows to reveal Bitch, who now had a body shape similar to Pantera's, stumbling out of the warehouse buck naked since her power destroys whatever she's wearing when she uses it on herself, and being supported by Mush who had his cans back in his massive travel pack. But what distracted from the naked dog-girl was that it seemed an amorphous mass of bugs was carefully navigating out with Stalker leading it. "What the hell?" That's my question Kid.

"Take us down, we don't have long before the officials show up, and we still need to drop Kid and Stalker off safely." I ordered, and waited nervously. Where is Taylor? We touched down seamlessly, and I slammed open the door, not caring if I crushed a bunch of bugs in the act. "What the fuck happened?! Where is she?! Who is this?!" I demanded heatedly of the three who went in, and my answer instead came from a chorused buzzing from the mass of chitin.

"Dealer. Help. It burned, I was trapped. I feel spread out everywhere, but mostly here." Buzzed the new cape, and I leered at it cautiously, making a T with my hands insistently. "Yes. Please."

"Get her in! We've gotta get out of here before the white-hats storm in and decide to arrest her for Triggering so violently." I snarled as I entered the transport, and everyone but me moved to the farthest corner from Taylor as she awkwardly shifted and crawled in her mass of bugs into the transport, keeping her admittedly disturbing form concentrated into another corner away from most everyone, while Stalker, Mush, and Bitch plopped onto the furthest benches. "Head for the PRT building, we're gonna drop the heroes off quick and then get T someplace secluded so she can adjust to her new powers."

"Hey, uh...where's the girl we came to-?" Kid Win was interrupted by Stalker grabbing the collar of his armored costume and growling in his face as she pulled him down.

"Do. NOT. Even ASK. She's SAFE. Capiche?!" Stalker urged angrily and seriously, and Kid Win quickly nodded his head, at which she let him go. "Get us to the PRT HQ Downtown, just please don't forget me if my 'Teammates' decide to throw me under the bus for doing the right thing."

"I won't." I swore, before I nodded at Rocksteady, who got back on the horn while the pilot, a Peeper since they have the most experience with these things at the moment, took us back up and cloaked us. "T, are you alright? It's not a stupid question before you quip with that."

"Boss, even I can tell that really is a dumb question." Bebop snarked as he approached Taylor. "Hey, got any crickets in there? It's out of season but I'd like to have some to deep fry later."

"Please don't ask to eat pieces of me again." Taylor droned in her new swarm-voice thing. "It doesn't hurt, but every bug that dies is another instance of _me_ that disappears and it scares me. Until I can figure out what's going on with my powers I don't want to take dangerous risks. I mean, sure, as we're flying I feel...myself, vanishing as what I assume are more bugs leave my range, but are replaced by other bugs that enter the range, but the fewer I lose permanently right now the better. I can feel, see, hear, taste, EVERYTHING they are doing, and it's honestly amazing I'm not an insensate pile of meat trying to comprehend all of this at once."

"Well you 'Pinged' off of us three." Mush stated as he gestured to himself, Bitch, and Stalker. "When you Triggered I mean. So the bugs are obviously your original power, but you being bugs might be more that you're assimilating them like I do debris. Can you or your bugs beef up like Bitch, or can you or the bugs go shadowy?" Everyone silently stared at the pink stout and buff goblin of a man, who crossed his arms and grumbled. "I'm not dumb, just quiet…."

"Wait. You're in full control? Then why did a giant fucking roach-lizard thing attack me! It was goddamn terrifying and it could even enter a shadow form like me!" Stalker angrily screeched, and I winced. Taylor isn't stupid, and Hess isn't masking her voice at all. Hopefully I don't have to try and play mediator between a swarm and her vengeance.

"Sorry Shadow Stalker, I was still coming out of a blurry haze of sensation. Also I was getting over the fact I was eating several human beings. Sure, they tried to kill me, but I still just killed and ATE several men! You killing what must've been the strongest bug there snapped me out of it before I might've killed you, Bitch, and Mush too. So good job saving the good guys from me." Taylor droned, before she held up a bulky limb of bugs, and the bulgy mitt slid back to reveal strands of fleshy tendrils releasing the bugs and forming back into a hand. "EW~! My powers are so disgusting!"

"Hey!" Mush indignantly declared, but we ignored him.

"Hey, it could be worse. At least you can get back to normal. People like our new team leader Weld don't have that option." Kid Win commented optimistically, and I could tell that it was ernest enough that he wasn't faking sympathy. At least the other Wards aren't as bad as Hess.

"True enough...wow, you guys do a good job keeping the pests out." Taylor commented as we lowered down to the roof of the PRT building, which was currently unoccupied, but there were cameras everywhere. The pilot expertly guided us over by the roof access and landed with the door facing a niche where even when open the angles would hide the opening until someone stepped out.

"Alright, thanks for taking such a risk. I hope to see you again Stalker, you're alright if a bit fucked in the head." I snarked as she got up and her companion got ready to exit.

"Bite me." Was her snarled reply, and I couldn't help myself.

"Don't tempt me." I purred, and I could just smell how that excited her as she hurried out of the door with Kid Win. Once the door slid closed and we were up in the air again, i turned to Taylor. "Okay Taylor, try and let all the bugs you've absorbed out and keep them nice and tidy in that corner over there." I directed, and watched in fascination as Taylor willed the bugs off, or rather, out, of her body, the whole time her cute voice chanting 'ew, ew, ew'. The moment of victory was short-lived however, because I saw red once the extent of her injuries came to light.

Taylor's legs were gone. Below mid-thigh, her long sexy legs were just gone, burned off judging by the chemical burns on her stumps. There were several raw stretches of skin all over her and all of her hair, both on her head and body were gone along with her clothes from whatever they did to her. Likely her Stim was all that saved her life and let her Trigger to survive. "The acid...it burned. I was in so much pain…." Taylor whimpered in her spot sitting in the corner, hugging her arms around her exposed chest and crying.

I immediately knelt down to her, hugging her and letting her sob into my shoulder as I uttered sweet nothings in her ear and nuzzled her neck. Damn it. I wish I was faster. I wish I had made her even stronger. I even wish I made some sort of knockout gas so she could get some rest instead of having to face this all immediately. Then there's the fact that I'll have to share Stalker's identity so Taylor and the others don't do something stupid to Hess in public now that said bitch is in-the-know about my own Identity if the scents she kept giving off meant anything. Well, that, or she's just a wanton slut, but I highly doubt it.

"Taylor. I can restore your hair, but your legs...I'll contact Panacea early tomorrow morning. It's a Truce day, so hopefully she'll be willing to interrupt Thanksgiving to help you." I told her once her sobbing had abated and she wasn't squeezing me so tightly anymore, but now she was petting me, running her fingers through my deceptively soft quills.

"Y-you don't need to do that for me Andrew. I've seen some people lose limbs and grow them back with Stim. I'll be fine…." I didn't buy that for a moment, this isn't a time to play tough Taylor.

[Pick Your Poison]

The rest of the ride to Haven was mostly filled with pampering Taylor as much as possible. It seemed that her powers let her shuck things off on her swarm instead of having to deal with them personally, which was part of why she was able to ignore her debilitating pain, she just passed it to them instead, and they weren't exactly intelligent enough to comprehend complex things like pain or terror anyway. I'll have to look that up now, _can_ bugs feel pain?

Regardless of the little things, Taylor was stable if crippled for now, and I didn't hesitate to carry her to the new clinic the moment we made it back, much to her embarrassment since we didn't exactly have anything to maintain her modesty besides my vest, which while big it had no zipper so she had to hug herself to keep it closed, but had to use her hands to hide her groin.

Thankfully the Peepers I texted while getting on the horn with Squealer about the situation had followed orders, and my mom along with Danny were already here. What didn't cheer me up was that the Peepers have suffered casualties, one having been cut in half by Coil's fucking merc's laser rifles and two others have lost limbs, so they'd be out of action for possibly weeks. In both cases, they'd come for my family and my friend's family, nowhere was safe but Haven now.

"I'm going to get you in this bed and I'm going to go take care of things, okay Taylor? Your dad's here, and this is a safe place." I insisted as Taylor didn't want to let go of me, her arms having gone to my neck when I tried to set her down.

"Please. Don't leave me." She pleaded, and I looked beseechingly to Danny, who was both incandescently furious at the situation and his daughter's condition, yet incredibly relieved and saddened too. Seeing me looking to him for help, the pajama-clad man swallowed and took a cleansing breath.

"Little Owl. I'm here too. I'll stay with you, but Andrew needs to go right now." His eyes and tone when he looked at me told me he was both thankful and upset with me, but I'd have to talk to him later.

"...Okay…." Taylor sounded so weak and pitiful that I wanted to stay too, but I had to get things started since this was mostly my mess and I couldn't just heap it all on Squealer and Skidmark. I finished lowering her to the clean bed, and after carefully prying her arms from around my neck, I pulled out my phone and quickly dialed Squealer as I stormed off, my mom staying with Danny and Taylor while my lieutenants and Bitch kept pace with me.

"Where is that bitch Squeal?" I practically demanded of my nominal superior as we left the large warehouse that was the new clinic, which even had a maternity ward, since the first Surge-born baby boy was delivered earlier today. At least something beautiful and good happened today.

"The Undersiders are being held in the jail, Warehouse 5." In the middle next to the cafeteria and Parian's workshop then. "Be gentle. They...didn't get away cleanly." Some of my fury abated at hearing that before I hung up. Hopefully none of them were dead. I looked back at Bitch, who still shamelessly followed us in the nude. I hoped she wouldn't have to hear one of her friends were dead. Or her dogs, because then Coil would definitely die by mauling.

The clinic was Warehouse 3 between my lab and Parian's workshop, so we didn't have far to walk before I slammed open the door and marched with purpose towards the only occupied cells in the first-floor corner, since this place was more like a small prison than a simple jail in size and utility. Each one even had its own toilet and sink. I think Uber and Leet may have gone overboard in their architectural planning, since working together they were really good at making schematics and blueprints. I stopped and put my hands on my hips as I glared at the three teenage villains who were glaring at Trainwreck until I arrived.

Indeed they didn't get off scot free. Tattletale's purple costume which did nothing to hide her new physique and proportions nearly matching Glory Girl's own new measurements was melted onto her. Neoprene and other materials used for bodysuits tended to do that when exposed to intense heat. That and she had a few visible bullet wounds, her left ear was mangled as well, blood having dried and caked her blond hair on that side a ruddy red-brown.

Grue had shot up like a weed, easily towering over me by nearly a half-foot and his motorcycle leathers were tattered and stitched with bullets, so I wasn't surprised he was practically hanging on the bars to keep himself upright since most of those wounds were in his shoulders and upper back, and keeping that area tense and higher than his heart would slow the bleeding.

Regent, who was tall and wiry had lost an arm and was clutching the stump with a rag, his white and grey renaissance style costume was coated in blood, which didn't seem to be from him. Lastly in a surprise fourth cell was some shivering scrawny little rat of a woman, who looked terrified and confused. She, because the whimpering was a bit too high-pitched for me to think she was a man, was wearing nothing but rags and had long ratty brown hair that hid her face.

"Did they at least get some medical aid?" I asked Trainwreck as I eyed our guests with some vindictive joy at seeing their possible betrayal having come with a cost. Tats claims she never told Coil anything, but then why, when she's the only one outside the crew that knew, did he know exactly where to snatch up Taylor, my mom, and Danny all around the exact same time?

"Yeah. One of the nurses came in here, and he demanded he be allowed to give them Stim since they were so bad off. They're doing better than when they got here." Trainwreck informed me before he crossed his mechanical arms. "So, little bitch, feel free to explain why you think you're innocent when clearly you sang like a canary."

"Gladly." Tattletale clearly didn't like Trainwreck, but I ignored that as she focused on me. "I'm sorry. I thought I had his power figured out, but I guess even if I resolved I wouldn't say anything, the reality of it is I guess I can't resist torture."

"Go on." I crossed my arms and forced myself to calm down. Which really meant I channeled my anger and irritation into my tail, which was whipping around behind me and scratching the concrete floor like an undulating snake. How poetically ironic.

"I thought his power was probability manipulation, but that went out the window when all his attempts on you recently failed. Then I thought he was a precog of some sorts, but that didn't make sense either for the same reasons. Finally, with this being the last straw that also led to him deciding we were a risky loose end, I have concluded that his power is either one of two things." Tats said as she paced in her cell and fretted. "His power is he either _is_ a precog of sorts that models outcomes on his actions and he can run two simulations starting at a point, and then he picks the outcome he prefers. Or he outright splits timelines themselves and discards the one he doesn't like." Holy shit.

"Bullshit." Hissed Rocksteady as he rubbed his arms. "Fuck. That second one better not be true. How many versions of me got fucked over while I'm okay?" That's a scary thought. But either way, what could've happened that he would keep the results of tonight over some other scenario? How was showing his hand like this preferable? I don't get it, it's suspicious….

"So in either case, he could torture the information out of you whenever he wanted and then pretend he never did while having all the info he needs. Great, so I can't stay mad at you then." I sighed as I scratched my neck plumage. "Before I let you out and have you escorted to the bunkhouse, what happened to Bitch's dogs?" At my question, Grue and Tats visibly saddened and looked away, and Bitch howled in anguish before she covered her eyes and whined.

"They died holding one of Coil's new capes off. At least I assume that's the case since they were so big and strong. Some sort of monster out of Lovecraft's nightmares. We had it rough avoiding their teleporter, but my darkness kept us out of his sight. We didn't have Bitch with us, so we couldn't take them along and we had to steal a car. The mercenaries were what gave us some lead passengers." Grue informed us and he grunted as one of said bullets finally fell out of his back to fall to the floor with the others of it's kind, and he sighed with relief.

"I didn't recognize them immediately, but they're the Travelers, a nomadic group of villains that never stay in one place too long. Last I heard they were in Boston, but something happened with Accord back in October and they disappeared again. Now we know where." Tattletale informed as she hissed and pulled on her costume. "Fucking Sundancer…."

"I'll help you with that Tats. When it happened to me I had to be fucking skinned alive to get it off. Thankfully you're just wearing neoprene instead of glass." Pantera offered as Trainwreck, who was the unofficial warden of Warehouse 5, moved forward and unlocked their cells. "But who's this little girl?" Pantera asked as Trainwreck unlocked the unknown woman's cell and she scurried back against the back wall.

"No clue, little rat was sleeping in the sedan we jacked to get away." Regent stated, having been quiet the whole time until now. "Watch out, she bites." I couldn't tell if he was joking, but I ignored our new guests as Pantera led them off and I went to the cell, kneeling down at the door to seem as small as possible.

"Come on out. We'll get you fed and cleaned up and put to bed." I reassured the small woman, who still hid her face with her hair, save one dark eye. "We'll even take you home if you want." I waited for a few moments, and I was rewarded by her finally speaking up with a tiny voice.

"I...I don't have a home…." She uncurled and slowly stood up, so I slowly followed. Dear god, she's emaciated. She has almost no muscle or meat whatsoever on her. How long has she been on the streets? She looked around Pantera's age and only looked somewhat better off than Pantera had been when I picked her to test my mods.

"You can have one here. What's your name?" I felt my hackles rise as she fidgeted and how the very air seemed to suddenly get a breeze, and one of the handles on the sink steadily opened, the water that came out bending into the air before she seemed to catch herself and whatever she was doing stopped.

"My name's Sarah. I, uh, guess I just outed myself anyway, but I'm a parahuman." Sarah admitted, to which I shrugged. Parahumans seemed to be everywhere these days.

"Okay then, got a name picked out?" At my question, she got a sheepish smile.

"I like the sound of Whirlygig." Did she Purposely mispronounce whirligig? Ugh. As if Trainwreck wasn't bad enough, now we have a misspelled toy. Whatever, still got work to do.


	42. Chapter 31

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Agitator 4.4**_

[Thursday, November 25, 2010]

After I had Rocksteady and Bebop escort Sarah to her room in the bunkhouse, I immediately tried to call Panacea through the Dallon household, but had to leave a message about the situation and hope they called me back. I checked in on Taylor, but she'd been put under by the clinic staff using clean and properly dosed heroin to let her rest through the pain without her having to stay up and use her powers to do the same.

Danny was awake though.

I've never been more terrified of _anyone_ in my life before than of Mr. Hebert when he went off on me for Taylor's situation. Fuck Lung, Danny is far more scary. Thankfully mom was able to calm him down somehow even though I couldn't justify anything that has happened since this was entirely my fault because she was targeted through association with me. Then again, Danny himself admitted that even with this outcome he knew Taylor wouldn't want things to still be the way they were before I finally intervened in her life like the friend I should've always been.

It kept me awake for a good portion of the night. The guilt. The self-loathing. At least until Pantera showed up shortly after midnight and forced herself into my bed totally nude, spooning my back and making me relax just from her presence as she snuggled into my soft quills and purred. I fell asleep shortly after that.

My unconcious bliss was interrupted by my phone ringing, and I groaned as I reached for the nightstand. "Hugh…." I cleared my throat. "Hello?"

"Happy Thanksgiving." Amy groused at me with hints of sleep still in her voice. "Where can you pick me up? I'm free until tonight when we have dinner over at Aunt Sarah's."

"Uh...on your front lawn? Our rides are still invisible, we can just show up at your place, no need for you to even come to the new base. She's stable enough we can bring her to you." In my opinion, Panacea already more than filled any debt. Letting me go when the fishery was under siege was big enough, not to mention saving my lieutenants after the bullet storm. This was more me pleading for her help than anything, and I don't want to inconvenience her.

"Not a chance. From what your message said she's lost _limbs_ to _acid_. I don't care how bullshit whatever your healing infection is, I'm not letting the patient be moved at all if I'm helping." I was fairly surprised at Panacea's astute deduction of Stim being a symbiotic infection, but that wasn't important at the moment, that would have to wait until she was here then.

"Look, it is a Truce Day, so I'll find someone to pick you up. However, please swear you'll tell nobody where we are." Just because she won't do anything Today didn't mean squat later.

"The fact you told us that Coil went after your civilian identity means you trust us with sensitive knowledge. Just trust us on this. Your people have been good to the city since you turned over a new leaf. While it's not full disclosure and accountability, you're in New Wave's good books. We won't stab you in the back." Well that's reassuring. "Also we need to get Parian to make us new costumes. The others can't grow their outfits like I can." And we're her middle-men, right.

"Got it, I'll have a Skiff come pick you up, be outside, feel free to bring anyone who wants to come with you." I looked behind me to see Pantera molded to my back, her arms around my chest and my tail between her legs with it coiling around them down to her paws.

"Bring Vicky, got it. See you soon Dealer." At Panacea's goodbye, I hung up and moved to get up. Pantera whined as I pulled her arms off me gently and I got to my feet, but she clenched her thighs around my tail to stop me with a groan of displeasure as she blearily opened her eyes.

"Mm...babe, come back to bed…." My girlfriend groggily pleaded, rubbing my tail's quills with her hand as she pat the bed with the other, to which I huffed in disappointment at having to leave my amorous and very cozy snuggle-cat before I untwined my tail from her legs.

"I have work to do Pan, and the sooner I get started, the sooner Taylor has her legs back." I moved to the plain metal dresser as she groaned and began sitting up. "Go back to sleep Pan. Just because I have to get up doesn't mean you do." I opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of sweatpants, which I wrinkled my snout at. Not attire for leaving the home.

"Fuck that. My reason to keep sleeping is leaving, might as well go get cleaned up." Pantera got to her paws and I felt her approach. She interrupted me seeking a shirt by rubbing my shoulders, to which I crooned in approval before she slid her arms around my chest and kneaded my pecs while pressing into my back. "Mm, tasty morsel I have here."

"Pan, as much as I would like to, now isn't the time. I can't actually consider getting intimate when my friend is in such a state." I admitted begrudgingly, because yeah, friend not having legs is a serious mood-killer, and I wasn't going to put _that_ off just to lose my virginity. Oh, and also I just remembered that there _is_ no sizing for condoms! Sherrel just did that to embarrass me! I've got to get her back for that now. That aside, I finished digging up a pair of jeans and a drawer of backless muscle shirts. These were basically womens halter tops! I'm not wearing any of these!

"Whoa, who did they think they were clothing, me?" Pantera grabbed the plain white halter-top and easily put it on, the broad front fitting her chest well considering it had a lot of length it could draw on too. "Guess this was to try and account for your quills." I rolled my eyes and put on the jeans. I loved how they just slid up my scales so smoothly. Skin is overrated.

"I'd rather go shirtless for the rest of my life." I grumbled, at least thankful that Pantera could use those tops while I'm just gonna stick to using normal ones in my disguise and go shirtless otherwise. "Well, I'm going to go see if any pilots are awake and get a lift to the Dallon house."

"Be sure to remind Glory Girl that you're already spoken for four times over." Pantera just had to remind me that I in fact had a harem. Why? God why?! What did I do to deserve this fate?!

"I'm not counting Hess." I may have extended a hand in faith, but that's different. She may be a sexy bitch that's into me, but she's still a bitch. Hm, I still haven't gotten to know Bitch much….

"Better get used to it, Stalker's not giving up even knowing who you are." Pantera advised with a huff as her tail flicked and I sighed. Why did I end up in this situation? At least I nipped the S&M play in the bud quick, but I wasn't looking forward to having frequent hate/love encounters. …. Oh who am I kidding, I don't know why but I like it rough, and Hess is _rough_.

[Pick Your Poison]

"-So along with healing my friend, I would also like your help mass-producing my Stim." I finished pitching to Panacea and Glory Girl as we stepped off the skiff at Haven, the sisters still gawking around at the parallel pocket dimension that mirrored the train yard. "Remember, no telling. Well, except maybe your family if they can keep it a secret."

"Leet did this. The world is ending...aren't you worried it's gonna implode on you or something?" Glory Girl nervously asked as she hugged herself in her tight white sweater. She and Panacea had decided to come casual, so were wearing warm clothes typical of late fall/early winter.

"Nope. He figured out the problem. If we run into him he'll talk your ears off about it. He's pleased as all hell at finally finding his specialization." I would also rather not think about being inside a dimension he crafted, even if it was via streamlined duplication, thank you. "So about helping me mass-produce Stim?"

"Give my family and I a dose each and it's a deal." Panacea agreed absently as she looked up at the sky. "Are those clouds inside the...bubble, or…?" Ugh, she had to keep fixating on it.

"No, those clouds are 'outside' in the main dimension Earth Bet inhabits. You're seeing through it like the boundary's not there, but it is, and only vehicles with a transponder keyed to the pocket's frequency can get in or out." Seriously, this place was possibly impervious to get into.

"Good thing I got a ride then." I spun around defensively at the unfamiliar voice, hissing and flaring my plumage at seeing an unfamiliar man in even more unfamiliar black plate-mail armor accented with glowing off-white circuitry standing at the open Skiff door. Panacea and Glory Girl responded in kind and got behind me, while a few members of the crew still working on the last of the initial fleet of Skiffs noticed and were quickly going on alert. "None of that, if I wanted a fight you'd all be dead already. Besides, it's a Truce Day."

"Who the fuck are you and what do you want?! For that matter, how did you get in here?!" Seriously, I just had the thought this place was impregnable and some asshole spirits in?!

"I just said I had a ride. I roadie-ran towards where I figured the rear would be when you showed up at the Dallon house, and used magnets to hang on." The mysterious intruder explained as if it was child's play. We've gotta make sure the next version of Skiffs has a 360 degree scanner or camera of sorts. "Anyway, seeing that I'm the intruder and already know you all, allow me to offer my name. I am Reverb." Panacea and Glory Girl just paled and stepped back at hearing his name, I nervously followed. "Like I said, I'm not here to kill anyone."

"Says the Supervillain who killed an entire community of homeless!" Panacea snarled furiously, and I growled at the very idea of killing so many people. "The alleys of Harlem are still red!"

"They were a group of The Fallen. They had to go or more people would've died." Reverb shrugged as if having so much blood on his hands wasn't anything to be ashamed of. "Oh, you should also add a few dozen skinheads, Victor, Krieg, and Kaiser to that number. Oh, and exposing Medhall as the Empire's front and fount of legitimate money. You're welcome."

"The bomb was you?! You fucker! You've hurt hundreds and killed a lot of people with that!" Glory Girl screamed, and launched at Reverb despite Panacea screaming her name in protest, and Reverb just...took it. Glory Girl, who has in the past knocked Leviathan around with her diving strikes just got no-sold by the terrifying Supervillain to the point she was gaping like us at how he didn't even move at all, and all that happened was the circuits of his armor brightening. "Wha…?"

"That's just adorable. Not even Alexandria herself can budge me in a single strike and you just fly right in like a Lemming." With blinding speed, he punched Glory Girl in the gut, her nearly invisible forcefield popped and she was flung into the limited skybox where a deafening impact resounded like a ground-zero thunderclap several second later, and she quickly fell back to the ground nearby, motionless.

"VICKY~!" Panacea wailed in despair as she ran for her sister and slid on her knees on the gravel, where she grabbed her sister and let out an explosive sigh in relief. "She's alive…."

"She'll be fine. Her field kicked back on just before the following impact with the boundary, and again before she landed. Still threw her for a loop I figure." Reverb casually brushed off and came up to me. I was too terrified to move, and I flinched as he clapped me on the shoulder. "My man, I understand I have you to thank for saving my niece?"

"Uh…." has found an error in situational causality, rebooting. "What?"

"Hold on, let me talk to you in private, after all, I won't trust New Wave to keep quiet." Reverb did something with his fingers, and suddenly it was _much_ harder to hear anything around us. "Okay, that'll give us some solitude. Name's Derek Fields, or Geno as I prefer. I hear you saved my niece Kathleen Fields." Holy. Shit.

"Uh...yeah, but she doesn't go by that name anymore." Fuck. FUCK. How am I going to explain to this extremely lethal villain that I turned his niece into a bodacious cat-woman without getting pulped? "She...uh...goes by the name Pantera now." Please don't kill me. PLEASE don't kill me.

"...I see. Did she prefer this result?" Reverb's tone was dangerous, but regardless of what he meant exactly, I nodded, which was rewarded with him giving me a hug. "You're a good man Dealer! Glad my little Kat found someone like you." He patted my back energetically, and I yelped as he plucked out a quill when he broke off the hug. "Nice feathers, very soft, downy."

"Uh...thanks? Well, uh...I don't trust you, even if you're my girlfriend-shit-uh…." When Reverb casually shrugged and gestured me to continue, I let out a cleansing breath in relief at his approval of me seeing his niece. "Even if you're Pan's uncle, I don't exactly trust someone with your...reputation, to go around freely." Who could no-sell kinetic energy dispersing/enhancing armor here? Uh...not Mush, Train, or Squealer. Whirlygig was more an AOE field manipulator. Nobody physically tough…. Wait. "I'm gonna give Skidmark a call, have him show you around and we'll both send Pantera your way." Skidmark's barriers ignored conventional physics! Even if Reverb couldn't be hurt by him, he could effectively contain him or maybe overload his armor!

"Sounds good, I'll wait here." Reverb leaned up against the skiff, and I took out my phone as I approached a worried Panacea who refused to look away from the unwanted guest, and the groggy and groaning Glory Girl who just learned a bit too late not to swing at someone who apparently was considered to be in the 'Big Leagues' of parahumans.

"Yo, Skidmark. Reverb's here." I silently enjoyed the stream of frantic profanity that overtook his end of the line. "Guess what, you're the only one here who might be able to no-sell him, so good luck showing him around. Oh, and wherever Pantera is, tell her to tag along, it's why he's here."

"The FUCK Dealer?! If I'm gonna deal with this shit then you're gonna-!" I hung up and turned off my phone with a shit-eating grin. He may have some respect from me but I'm not going to resist the petty need to get some measure of payback on Adam for going along with Sherrel's 'condom sizing' gag. Even so, why were the ones we bought called Jumbo anyway?

"Come along ladies, I want to introduce you to my friend. After that I'll take you to Parian to hash out your family's costumes, and then go to my lab so we can get to work." I also wanted to get them away from Reverb, because although technically it was Glory Girl who broke Truce first and Reverb responded fairly reasonably, I didn't want them to stay near the villain too long.

[Pick Your Poison]

Well, it took a pig carcass from the food storage building, aka Warehouse 7, which was disturbingly full of unbutchered meat, meat I don't want to know how we got. But with the formerly dead flesh at Panacea's hands, Taylor had her legs back in short order. Oddly, Taylor and Amy, who insisted I call her by name out of costume, hit it off fast. All it took was some literature quote from Taylor after the whole pig was turned into her new legs and Amy picked up on it. Then they were going off rapid-fire about books. I had no clue Amy was a big book-nerd.

Taylor ended up tagging along with us after reassuring Danny she was fine, and spent the whole time after she was properly dressed chatting up Amy and then Victoria too, who also asked me to be casual with her civilian ID. Parian was glad to get some fresh business, because making designs for Leet to scan and copy for the crew, while lucrative, was boring apparently. Then finally, we made it to my lab, which I was currently grandly posing for their introduction to my lair, which got Amy to snort and Victoria to actually laugh at how much of a dork I was being.

"So this is where all your nefarious concoctions come to life?" Amy snarked playfully as we approached the most-used corner of my lab, which was mostly being used to make foggers, Air-No and Air-Yes right now. I still need to get the supplies to make Salve and Surge though.

"If you consider microbiology proper life, then yes. With you here Amy, I'm hoping to make a renewable resource of Stim, which I would love to share with heroes, or help with Endbringer attacks, but I'm not cruel or evil enough to flay people to make it." I explained on the way to Haven why I needed her help, because even if I was willing to flay people, the yield would hardly be worth the suffering.

"Well, don't worry, because I'm sure between the two of us, we'll have one of these vats breeding Stim no problem." Amy declared confidently as she held out her hand while she picked up a vial. "I'm going to need a sample of Stim, and you've got plenty in your body for me to duplicate with what little fat you've got in you to have a good amount to start with." At that, I held out my hand, and watched in fascination as my arm went completely numb, a gaping hole I couldn't feel opened in it, and she liberally poured my blood into the vial until it was full. With that, she reversed what she did, and suddenly I had feeling again, which made me twitch.

"That's amazing. You're truly wasted as just a healer, imagine all the deformities you could fix, or even the superhumans you could make." I felt jealous. I had to scrape and struggle just to get some bacteria to boost healing and all other kinds of effects, all she had to do was sneeze and she could replicate everything I've done and more within moments rather than minutes to days.

"Please don't tempt me so much. I had to fight the urge to turn you into a full-blown raptor and clone you for a theme park." Amy smiled with dark humor and I couldn't help my snort. "But really, it's hard enough for me to stick to using plants and other cellulose-based things to express my creativity."

Victoria giggled and was drawn over from her conversation with Taylor at that. "Yeah, she actually couldn't help herself at dinner one night, and turned her steak into a small sculpture of Alexandria. Personally, I don't think she has boobs or a butt that b-."

"VICKY!" Amy was flushed up to her ears in embarrassment, and Victoria couldn't help but laugh at her sister's reaction. "Ignoring what you didn't just hear, I'm going to need a lot of meat for this, so while we were at the meat locker I asked to have a bunch of pigs to be delivered here." She did? But where was her request? We were at the clinic and Parian's for a while.

"Huh, usually the crew is prompt about these things." Just as I said that though, the bay doors at the front of the lab opened and a forklift holding a pallet stacked with what I guessed were pork bellies were swiftly driven over to us and dropped. Without a word, the crewman waved at us and reversed back out, the doors closing. "Hm, we must be really busy if he didn't stop for a chat at least." I guess Reverb sneaking in on a Skiff has Sherrel up in arms over her design.

"Well that's a lot more fat than I was hoping, but it's all meat in the end. Point out a vat, and let's get to work. You two may want to go hang out elsewhere, it's going to get really ugly for a bit here." Amy stated to her sister and my friend as I pushed the pallet of flesh to the nearest empty vat. To be safe, I made sure said vat was as far from the main Nutrigel vat as possible.

"Come on Victoria, I want you to come see the cafeteria and try our Nutrigel soft-serve. It's better than ice cream or frozen yogurt with none of the drawbacks." Taylor beamed as she jogged towards the front door, Victoria hovering after her in curiosity.

"So, what's the plan?" I asked of my temporary lab assistant, who pointed at the bellies.

"Toss those to me one at a time." I did so, and the muscular young woman caught, and in one smooth motion, tossed them into the vat, while they near-instantly turned into a semi-liquid slurry just before leaving her hands. The whole pallet was gone in minutes, and she held the last pork belly instead of just tossing it. "Let's see…." I watched in awe as the dead flesh reshaped in her hands like clay, even without her needing to manually mold it.

It shrank into a pale fleshy ball, a porous ball with what seemed to be a gaping toothless maw on one side. She held out her hand, and I wordlessly fetched the vial of my blood/Stim mixture. She fed it to the maw, patted it, and dropped it into the meat slurry with a sickening plop, followed by a faintly disturbing slurping sound. "What is it doing?"

"It's ingesting the meats and proteins, directly converting it into Stim which it'll bleed from it's pores. Don't ask how, I'm impressed with myself as it is and I doubt you'd want to hear impossible biology miracles at work here." Amy beamed as she looked down into the vat at her godless creation. I hope it doesn't become sentient somehow.

"So it'll only take meat? I have Nutrigel which is an all-around sustenance source." It'd be irritating to need to keep a steady supply of meat, and there's the fact that the Stim harvested this way would be incredibly unsanitary. But then again, Stim was never sanitary, it eliminated the need to be sanitary anyhow. Besides that though, it already reeked in here, I'll have to get this vat covered, or make a bacteria that can...hm...an olfactory-fooling bacteria….

"Meat's for the best, don't feed it any vegetables. Now then, about our deal." Amy rubbed her hands together, probably to wipe away imaginary filth, considering she couldn't get dirty with organic substances.

"Stim for you and your sister, and Stim for you to take home to your family." I nodded in agreement, and went to the meager store of Stim we still had from the loss of the fishery, only for a nurse from the clinic to slam my door open, and come running. "What is it?"

"The baby that was born yesterday! Something's wrong!" The male nurse looked pale and frantic, and I looked to Amy who had instantly switched into Panacea mode, so I nodded to him as I grabbed the small case of Stim inoculations from my workspace.

"Lead on."


	43. Interlude 4b

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Knave**_

[Thursday, November 25, 2010]

Coil was at his wits end by this point. All his attempts to forestall or sabotage, or otherwise hurt the Merchants have all backlashed viciously in fantastic and ludicrous ways due to unexpected variables.

His initial assault by manipulating Lung into trying to kill Dealer ended with an acceptable scenario, because at least it meant the ABB were no longer an issue, but now he wished he hadn't, because then the ABB would still be slowing the Merchants down.

Then he tried to cripple the Merchants by convincing a group of E88 with a replica MG 42 to mow down Somer's Rock while he knew that Dealer would be having a meeting with New Wave and Purity, while simultaneously a bomb was detonated at the Fishery to expose their base of operations to the PRT and Protectorate. He would've dropped that timeline when he found out that Dealer had survived and the Merchants were already relocating their main base anyway.

But in his other timeline, he was spending his day off at a cafe near Medhall and hadn't ordered either assault to happen. He died shortly after the explosion that destroyed the top floors of the medical firm's skyscraper and he was crushed by falling debris. Thus he was forced to accept the sub-par outcome of his attacks because he had decided to relax.

He took out his frustrations on Tattletale, using alternate timelines to torture the girl for everything she had on Dealer and the Merchants, which considering Trainwreck had turned on him, was a rather surprising amount. The reason being because apparently Bitch had decided to pursue Dealer as a romantic interest and was in frequent contact with his lieutenants as a result. How convenient that teenage hormones give him such opportunity.

Getting the time and place of Bitch's date was hard, considering Tattletale kept nearly dying in her refusal to betray Dealer or her friends, but he did have to quirk an eyebrow at Dealer apparently having attracted the attentions of several girls willing to work together for his affection considering she kept going off on tangents about Dealer being a 'harem magnet'. His foe's polyamory aside, he decided targeting Marian Ruebs, Mr. Ruebs' mother, as well as Taylor and Daniel Hebert would get the best possible result for him to coerce Dealer to work for him instead of being a constant thorn in his side.

Needless to say, he was furious that Dealer had prepared for someone to move on his friends and family. His mercenaries who went to the Ruebs and Hebert homes found themselves assailed by military-dressed foes who were far too skilled to not have had military training. He lost a few mercenaries and the targets escaped. He dropped that timeline and split again, ordering the assault but this time having the ones ready to kidnap Taylor Hebert move at the same time while warning his mercenaries about the hidden protection detail.

This time the house assaults still failed, but this time his mercenaries suffered no losses, and the enemy was down a few soldiers instead. Meanwhile his team had successfully subdued Bitch and made off with the Hebert Girl. However, he hadn't expected the Merchants to so swiftly and expertly track them to the designated warehouse. Deciding that timeline was another failure, he vindictively ordered them to execute the Hebert girl and kept the split running to try and get a better understanding of how the Merchants would operate to extract a hostage if they thought she was still alive.

However, while both timelines had him in his office in his main base, and he considered himself perfectly safe, the one where he was closer to his hidden escape tunnel on the side of his console with the coffee maker died instantly from the false wall being smashed in, and the surviving instance of him bolted for the open door at seeing what looked like a few hulking man-rat things as the culprits, which then promptly ignored him in favor of his computer station.

He quickly sealed the door of his office when he was in the hall and declared a red-alert, calling the base to wake up and search. Coil was told by his security chief, who had arrived with a team of mercenaries, that when they went in expecting combat, his office was vacated by the rat-people, but his electronics had been ripped out wholesale and stolen.

Coil was incandescently furious and split the timeline, shooting his security chief in the face before turning on the mercenaries, who gunned him down, and he did so multiple times in another timeline to vent his fury. Because he was again forced to keep a failed outcome from some freak incident. Only this time was much more personal. The only person in the city who could make half-animal hybrids was Dealer, and whether intentional or not, he attacked Coil in his most sacred of places and even had the gall to rob him!

If that wasn't bad enough, the Travelers called in shortly after to report that they had failed to eliminate the rest of the Undersiders as he'd ordered earlier that night. The only consolation from this complete disaster was that the Undersiders had almost no time to make off with any possessions at Redmond Welding, not even Bitch's monstrous dogs. He ordered them to bring the dogs in alive, they could be useful in understanding Dealer's modifications better. On top of that, they even secured a half-full canister of one of Dealer's drugs; Surge.

Now Coil was in a holding pattern, seeing no way to move forward with his headquarters possibly compromised, and his secret escape tunnel sealed off, again robbing him of another possible advantage in a worst-case scenario.

Deciding to try and seek assistance with his situation, he reached out to a dear acquaintance's secretary last night with a request for a phone conference and a detailed summation of the purpose of said conference. Today, on Thanksgiving, he would be calling in at noon on the dot since Accord had few things to do on a day that hampered his business with most people. At a few seconds until 12 PM noon, he speed-dialed the conference number he was given.

"Greetings Coil." Came Accord's clear and concise tone, not a single hitch in the reception.

"Hello Accord. Shall we get to business, or is there something I missed?" Coil calmly queried, since admitting one's own faults and asking for advice on improvement was one of the best ways to keep Accord appeased in conversation. So long as you weren't his subordinate.

"I would first inform you of your situation." Accord's voice wasn't at all aggravated, which was good despite his words. "You have moved too hastily, and your opponents are at a clear field and public advantage. That's not mentioning their firepower or their resources quickly outstripping yours." Coil had to wince at having this outlined so clearly by the best planner in the world. "I will first state however that your base should still be safe, the thieves who made off with your office equipment are likely a pure coincidence with the Information I have available."

"That is one less concern." Coil commented as some of his stress abated.

"Quite. I would advise that you pull back, do not risk further encounters for a while, and allow outside forces to weaken them first." Coil creased his brow at that. The only other major power in the Bay at this point was the Protectorate and PRT. He didn't count New Wave since they were clearly allied or at least indifferent to the Merchants. "I am not surprised you are unaware, but prepare to bunker down. The Teeth are invading." Coil twitched.

"Thank you for the warning. I'll have my men fall back in full for now. Is there anything else?" The money he paid up front for this call was looking inadequate at this point.

"The Bloods and the Mara Salvatrucha as well. They smell blood in the water and are moving your way." That was perhaps some of the worst news Coil could have gotten, and he rubbed his temple as he realized his situation. "Consolidate your assets and resources and build back up, that is my advice. I would also like to thank you Coil, you have drawn plenty of annoyances away from my business. I will refund you for this call since you have helped me in other ways."

"Thank you Accord. I wish you well in your endeavors." Especially now it seems that inadvertently thanks to Coil, Accord only had Blasto and the heroes over in Boston to deal with.

"Goodbye." The call ended, and Coil split timelines to vent his fury on the furniture in his personal room. Once he had vented he dropped that timeline and rubbed his forehead through the comfortable mesh of his pure-black bodysuit only interrupted by the single white serpent coiling from the head at his forehead, down his neck, around his torso, and then coiling tighter down his left leg.

The supervillain pondered how he was going to achieve dominance in the city now. Originally all he had to deal with were easily duped druggies, asian-supremacists and white-supremacists on top of an overtaxed and easily subverted legal system. Now he's dealing with a massively growing small army of super-humans on top of them having the most capes what with the remaining Empire capes having fled, surrendered to the law, or gone into hiding. Or, he mentally groused over the Undersiders' escape, having joined said army in all likelihood.

And all he had were the Travelers, one of which was an endlessly hungry monstrosity that he was unable to help when he promised them aid for poor Noelle. He did try, he even kidnapped Panacea in an alternate timeline, but the healer was just eaten and nothing else helped either. However, he was going to test something on that front today. It was almost feeding time.

Coil got up and walked to the room just above Noelle's vault, where food was dropped directly onto the gluttonous mutant below. Coil indifferently ignored the barking of the two massive dogs Judas and Brutus in the cage over the feeding chute as he approached the mercenary at the console that operated the chute and other dispensers.

Coil split the timelines. In one, he ordered the two dogs fed to Noelle, in the other, he told the mercenary he had second thoughts, and would rather the two incredible beasts be kept with Angelica to breed superior attack hounds for a K9 unit, something he felt suitably ironic.

The yelping howls as they fell to their doom was satisfying in a morbid way, and hearing Noelle moan in disturbing amounts of pleasure at eating them alive through their screeching squeals before the chute closed was barely disturbing to him.

The two massive dogs nearly twice the size of a normal man were surprisingly easy for the skilled dog-handler among his mercenaries to order, and the merc voiced he was quite happy to have such well-trained dogs to work with, as they followed his every direction perfectly.

Coil returned to his office, which was home to only a single computer for now, and he watched in fascination over the special CCTV line fed from Noelle's cell to his monitor in the first timeline. She was changing. Her body, in all it's grotesqueness, a mishmash of random bits and bobs of both human and animal parts began reshaping. She screamed in agony as her human upper half grew larger while her impossible almost slug-like tauric lower half grew smaller and more uniform. It ended with Noelle no smaller than before, but clearly much more coherent and mobile as she gawked down at her dog-like tauric lower body which had four forelegs.

In the few hours that timeline took for the dog's sacrifice to bear fruit, his dog handler reported that Angelica was already pregnant with pups, which were likely to be just as huge as their forebears. Just what did Dealer's modifications do to a subject's virility and fertility to get results this fast? He just told the handler to give her some Surge-laced food after Angelica was chemically induced into heat and bred with Brutus, and she's already visibly pregnant?

Weighing between the two timelines was tough for Coil, so he let both progress as in both he ordered his field agents to return to base and prepare to hunker down as Accord had informed him to. In the sacrifice timeline, he gathered the Travelers and introduced them to a much more stable Noelle. He decided to drop that timeline when, unexpectedly, Trickster went insane and tried to kill them all, raving that Noelle was supposed to destroy everything. Coil had suspected, but having confirmation one of his parahuman subordinates was a Simurgh Bomb, perhaps even all of them, left him much more apprehensive.

At least now he knew that likely it was Stim along with Surge, two of the drugs Dealer has made which he gathered info on from Tattletale, that could help Noelle's body stabilize. He had to keep this as quiet as possible. He also would like to see if another of Dealer's creations, Addictol, would help with Noelle's mental state, and possibly the mental health of the Travelers as a whole. He doubted that Trickster was the only one set by the Simurgh to go off at a trigger. And, if Addictol could, in fact, break a Master ability as powerful as the Simurgh's? Invaluable.

At least he knew from Dealer's business with the Undersiders and New Wave that the biotinker was willing to sell his wares. It would just be difficult to get someone neutral enough to pose as the buyer who wouldn't betray him over such valuable goods. Perhaps he would have to order extra, for himself and the patsy doing the buying to ensure whoever he picked wouldn't try to run off with regeneration in a needle to the highest bidder.

That decision made, Coil began organizing, planning for where to send operatives more frugally, when he froze at hearing a series of knocks. Not at his door. At the hastily sealed former secret escape passage. He stayed silent, until a furless clawed fist smashed a clean bowling ball sized hole through the admittedly thin cement cap and Coil took out his FN P90 from his desk, and sprayed the hole while calling for another alert. He wasn't going to have his current make-do laptop computer taken by some mutant sewer rats!

"THIS ONE PEACE!" Coil held his fire and split timelines, in one he backed up towards the door which was still sealed, in the other, he drew slightly closer to hear better. "I sorry for young one's theft. They desperate, not know better."

"Who are you? What do you want?" Coil demanded in both timelines, but the one at the door was ready to bolt, holding up a hand at the arrived security team for them to stay in place, while the other Coil go closer as he ordered his mercenaries to stand down but be ready. Peering through the hole revealed a surprisingly intelligent rodent face on the other side.

"I Splinter. At least, is name was given. Not smart then, like now. Want say sorry. Tell kids to be patient, but teenagers." Splinter's rueful tone got Coil to scoff wryly at the fact he could sympathize with a sewer rat of all things over the universal truth of teenagers being headaches.

"What your kin have stolen is worth far too much for a simple apology. I would rather kill you than just take your words." Both Coils said. Coil in the curiosity timeline prepared to die, while the Coil in the caution timeline was prepared to run Splinter off or kill him.

"Have more than words. Took thing they made with your stuff and brought back." Splinter then knocked on the rest of the thin wall, which curiosity Coil took as a warning to back off, and in both timelines, Splinter carefully punched a hole in each corner of the wall, and handily broke it down, revealing a hulking 6-foot tall grey man-rat with a prominent fu manchu and ragged pants. After the wall and debris was out of the way, Splinter hefted up something into his arms and brought it into the office. "Here, no clue what they did, but it all here."

Coil gawked. Whatever those other rats did with his computers, it looked like some monstrous homemade supercomputer that some tech geek welded together, and then felt there was no such thing as too many cables or heat sinks. It looked like trash. But the LED lights that he recognized from his former computer array were all lit, and it wasn't plugged into anything. Coil collapsed the caution timeline, feeling that curiosity had won this time. "What is it?"

"Ricky say was trying to make something smart. We not learned, barely able to speak. But they could have taken broken things and done same, so brought it back." Splinter explained admittedly quite well, and Coil decided to unplug his laptop's USB from the desk's built-in port connected to the base's system, and gestured to it.

"May I?" Coil may not like differing to others, but when the half-beast mass of muscle was within arm's length, he didn't want to test his civility. Splinter grunted and nodded at it, so Coil did so, and instantly, his OS was subverted entirely, and a cascading sequence of ones and zeroes overtook the screen as his laptop's cooling fan worked overdrive. Then came the voice.

"WinWin is online. Direct function." The voice was bland and monotone, but Coil felt his heart start to race. He typed in a query; 'are you an AI?'. "WinWin is a limited structure of action and reaction tied to a simple formula and modular directive. Direct function."

"You're saying...Ricky? Ricky, made a VI?" These rats have parahuman powers?! At getting a nod from Splinter, Coil split the timelines. He needed to see how this could turn out. "I would ignore the damage you and yours have done to my property, if you came here and helped me with my goals. I'll even provide beds, food, shelter."

"No." Splinter staunchly refused, Coil dropped that timeline since he had dealings with people like Splinter before, and they were just as hard to convince. Usually if the 'first' approach failed, that was it with people like Splinter who were honest but suspicious.

"I'll forgive all the unpleasant things that have happened if you and yours come here. I'll provide learning materials as well as food and comfort. In exchange, I would like access to some of your group's works." Coil's new ploy had Splinter humming in consideration, even crossing his arms and creasing his brows.

"Would need to speak to young ones. Not just my say." Splinter's words were sensible, and expected. Coil kept the result, then split timelines again for the sweetener.

"If it may entice them, we also have leisure and luxury here." Enough that his men barely complained about being underground. The small court for indoor sports was helpful with that, and he was still considering adding a pool once he could manage to get that much water quietly.

"Hm...that may work a little too well actually." Splinter's rueful admission got Coil to smile and drop the other timeline, split again, one holding out a hand, the other ready to keep bargaining.

"Let's shake on it. Gently. I help you and yours with your education, you all help me by lending me your abilities." Coil winced inwardly at grasping the filthy rat's hand, but he would have to learn to deal with it, since Splinter represented an unexpected resource.

"It is deal. We come here and help for learning. Will go get others. Make room for…." Splinter paused, and counted off of his fingers. "Nine. Three other rats not make it."

"Sorry to hear that. What happened?" Coil wondered what could kill such tough creatures.

"First was Slinky got hungry. Other two got sick, died, fed them to Slinky." Splinter's nonchalant acceptance of what sounded like cannibalism reminded Calvert he wasn't speaking to a human. "Be back soon." Splinter tramped off down the re-opened escape tunnel, and meanwhile WinWin decided to sleep, or something, because the laptop wasn't on anymore.

Coil called his security chief through the base's closed direct landline. "Captain Brooks, we have 9 new tenants arriving. They are from those rats that robbed me yesterday. Before you ask, one of them came here to apologize for the others and brought back a Tinkertech VI console. So be ready to tread lightly. They're not too bright even though they have tinkers."

"Understood Coil, I'll brace my people for their presence and prepare rooms as far away from the rest of us as possible." Coil smiled. He appreciated the professionalism of people like Brooks.

"Do so." Coil said in an approving tone, then called Mr. Pitter. "Pitter, I have need of your expertise. We'll be hosting several non-humans here with human level intellect and size. I'd like you to be ready to examine them for disease or other ailments. Brush up on your veterinarian skills."

"Yes sir." Was his only reply, and Coil hung up, reclining in his office chair with a dark grin. Sometimes, you just had to make lemonade. Didn't mean you couldn't drown it in sugar too.


	44. Chapter 32

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Agitator 4.5**_

[Friday, November 26, 2010]

When Amy and I went to go check on the newborn yesterday, we had been rather surprised at what was considered 'wrong'. The boy, born just the day before Thanksgiving already seemed to be the physical age of a toddler, and abnormally strong as well incredibly intelligent, already having a very vague understanding of his surroundings. Amy's analysis was that he was born with Surge in his system, and it was actually as much a part of him as the Stim he inherited from his mother. Both of which she said were far superior to fresh Stim or Surge. She did allay any fears for his health or lifespan, stating 'he's born nigh immortal, forget medical worries'. And that there, reminded me of my concerns about Stim and Surge working together.

I have, unknowingly and ignorantly, unintentionally created serums of youth, agelessness, and power. Dear god, if you exist, I have committed immeasurable sins, for now I and any I treat with Stim cannot die of age or illness, only violence and accidents can claim us now. I'm surprisingly disturbed by this. Sure, like any sane person I don't _want_ to die, but it's supposed to be an inevitable part of life, and I've bumbled past death with a raised middle finger while drunk.

Speaking of which, I had a surprise Thanksgiving Feast with the whole crew in Warehouse 6 with the cafeteria full to capacity with celebrating people. Reverb was still there into the afternoon but left with Amy and Victoria. Skidmark said he had something important to pass on to me from Reverb but that could wait. The rest of the day blurred into a mess of feasting, and drinking, what I believe was champagne and hard cider. Not even the responsible adults stopped us, something about Stim and Surge making drinking age requirements pointless?

I have no idea what went on after, but I groaned as I woke up with a weak pulsing headache. How much did I drink? Pantera must be on top of me, I feel her weight pressing into me. "Ugh...Pan...Pan, get off…." I tried to move my legs, but I was thoroughly pinned. I opened my eyes to see Pan's beautiful if feline face snuggled into the crook of my neck, but I gasped and felt my heart race and my head ache even more at seeing two others in the bed with us.

I could barely see them past Pantera's huge butt, but I could see Taylor and Bitch using us as pillows, and all of us were naked, reeking of champagne and fruity cider. Dear gosh, please no. Tell me I didn't lose my virginity blackout sloshed and in a foursome to boot! I'd have rather been lucid enough to remember it!

Bitch stirred and grunted as she pushed herself off of Pantera and I's legs, yawning expansively with her elongated canine jaw reminding me how many teeth she had. The fur on her face was sticky and matted, making me feel warm at thinking what she did that could cause that. After stretching out her back, Bitch blinked blearily and looked down at me indifferently. "Next time, fuck us, don't play with us." Bitch demanded as she sat up and scratched at her hefty chest.

"Oh thank god, so none of us actually had sex?" I asked for clarification, and Bitch grunted in irritation with a nod as she picked at her sticky fur.

"We just used our mouths. Taylor's loud." Bitch commented with her ears bending back a moment, making me feel even warmer, and hiss as I felt my groin decide I was aroused enough to appear, right between Pantera's thighs too. Damn it, not now. My head hurts too much. "And that's why I said we should just fuck. But no. Taylor said it wasn't right since you were drunk."

"Mrrr...this is a thing I could enjoy waking up to." Pantera purred as she squeezed her thick, muscular thighs around my member, and I gasped as i pushed at her with one hand, holding my skull in pain with the other. Fuck that hurt…. "But right now, you need some Addictol, or something else to help your head, like aspirin." Pantera considerately let my phallus go, and I sighed as I closed my eyes and rubbed the temples of my saurian skull.

"Ladies, can we please get cleaned up and ready for the day?" Taylor's voice declared as she seemed to simply snap awake and ran her fingers through her tangled mop of hair. "Andrew needs some peace and quiet too." Thank you Taylor for being the voice of reason in this den of debauchery, even if you didn't manage to stop events transpiring completely last night.

"Dibs on the shampoo first!" Pantera suddenly declared as she jumped off the bed in a display of impressive acrobatics, running out of the room with Taylor and Bitch quickly giving chase.

"No fair! I use less than both of you!" Taylor complained from down the hall as I groaned.

"I'm sticky from licking you both out, I get clean first." I rubbed my temples again at Bitch's own argument, and sighed as I got up and closed the door, before stumbling back to bed and flopping face-down into the musky sheets. Today can wait...zzzz….

[Pick Your Poison]

I woke up about an hour later, stumbling into the kitchen after a quick shower to find my girlfriends...holy shit I can legitimately say that without being a douchebag…. Anyway, to find my girlfriends thankfully dressed...in my clothes, and eating leftovers from last night for breakfast. "Isn't turkey a bad idea in the morning?" I asked as I scratched my freshly washed chest and moved to serve myself a plate from the huge lineup on the counter.

"It's tasty." Bitch shrugged as she gnawed on a leg bone. "Besides Rebel, I don't have any dogs to work with right now." Bitch groused, and I felt another pang of anger at Coil for hurting her.

"Well she could use it. Rebel's a, well, a rebel. She doesn't follow any directions." Taylor said as I moved to the fridge and got a soda ironically labeled '1337's totally not a rip-off cola' to take with the aspirin I brought from the bathroom. I nearly choked. RC cola?! This IS a rip-off! Who the hell drinks RC anyway? Well, likely Leet apparently, unless this was just a troll.

"I'm gonna call my uncle up and see if we can't spend some more time together. Unless you have something new to test Andrew?" Pantera asked after she finished scarfing down her hot turkey sandwich, licking the gravy off her whiskers.

"I'm so busy just trying to recover that I haven't really been thinking of making anything new. I'm thinking of putting on a Guise Belt and going for a stroll down the waterfront, see how the DWU are doing on cleaning up the shore and ship graveyard." I haven't really gotten to relax or enjoy myself lately, have I? Every time I try I either end up in a cape battle, or something else just as violent. "Uh...actually, considering my track record of things going to shit when I go walkabout, I think I'll just keep tinkering away. The nurses might be watching the Stim vat to keep the Bleeder fed and keep harvesting Stim, but I've got to get to work on more new things anyway."

"Actually Andrew, I think you taking a break is a good idea. This time, I'm not leaving your side. The worst seems to happen when we're apart." Taylor insisted as she finished ravenously eating her fourth plate of food. Panacea did mention she'd need more energy to recover now I think of it, considering she's up again to dish herself a fifth plate now.

"Sounds good. I'm gonna go work on Rebel then, maybe go looking for more dogs now the Empire's done and their dogs are everywhere." Bitch stated and stood once she licked her plate clean. She came up to me and licked my snout, which got my quills flaring. "Later."

"Later." I agreed, petting her head, getting a pleased coo and wag of her tail in response before she left our apartment. Pantera then did the same, only kissing more passionately and giving me an appreciative squeeze on my jean-clad butt before leaving. I then sat down to eat as I bemusedly watched Taylor digging into her fifth plate. Her stomach wasn't even bloated, where was she putting all of that? "Is there something you need to tell me?"

Taylor paused in bemusement, before blushing as she realized just how much food she'd been eating. "Uh, no. I'm just really, really hungry. I ate so much yesterday too, but I feel like a gaping hole is in my gut." Taylor described before she continued eating more slowly. "Yeah. It goes down my throat, but then I don't feel any different."

"Hm, how's your swarm?" This might have something to do with her powers. She did get a rather unique blend from pinging off of Bitch, Mush, and Stalker all at once. Who knows what could be up with this.

"...Content. You thieving bastards!" Taylor snarled and suddenly her torso split open, and a disgusting deluge of bugs spilled out and filed out across the room and out the cracked open front door. "Missed some…not used to them yet. Why'd Amy not say anything?" Taylor was red up to her ears. I meanwhile, felt green.

"I'm not hungry all of a sudden…."

[Pick Your Poison]

My somewhat ruined appetite aside, I finished a good breakfast with Taylor before I put on a copy of the new prototype Guise Collar that Leet said he was working on. It was apparently just another step towards a Guise Watch, but it was more my style than a belt anyway what with it being put into the spiked collar I was wearing to the concert on wednesday, lead loop removed of course. It felt oddly reassuring to have something comfortably snug around my neck, helping remind me I'm more than human even while I'm pretending to be. Thankfully the collar looks different in my disguise than it does on me.

Out of caution, I kitted up with my costume and the gear I've prepared, and then used the collar to seem like I was just in a casual sweater, jeans, and boots while human. When Taylor saw me putting on the collar, she flushed and I had to ask why. She said it made me look like a 'bad boy' type or something, whatever that means. So long as it's not a dog term, I'm okay with that, save those for Bitch.

Considering the train yard wasn't all too far from the shoreline at the northern end of the city, we figured we'd just spend the day walking and talking from the quick van-hop out of Haven. We just talked, for once, about nothing serious. I avoided talking about Hess to spare Taylor the stress of the truth for now, while she was poking and prodding me about my preferences and interests.

Before I triggered, I baked as a hobby, now my tinkering has taken that over, I guess. I used to read a lot, too, rather than write notes and theories on impossible microbiology...my powers have subsumed that too…. I...guess, I also like theatre, theater, action movies, and rock music. Which I've been completely ignoring in favor of tinkering…. Holy shit, my powers have completely hijacked my whole life outside of school. When was the last time I even had a talk with my mom? When did we last spend any time together?! "Shit...Taylor, I think I need more than a long walk." I decided as we were rounding the fenced-off ship graveyard, which didn't have anybody working for some reason. Oh yeah, Black Friday...why is that still a thing?

"Why do you say that?" Taylor asked as we casually strolled, noting what boats and ships were gone or were in the process of being broken down. The DWU was doing good work. They've already cleaned up all the small boats and were working on the medium-sized yachts and tugboats now from the look of it. That still left a staggering number of medium-to-large fishing boats, not to mention all the freight and cargo ships.

Judging by the progress, the largest ship blocking the mouth of the bay would be last. She was a former navy oil tanker that was decommissioned and sold to the civilian market as the _Whitmore_. Being the largest type of T1 Tanker in the latter years of the model's production, it blocked two-thirds of the mouth of the bay. The thing was about as long as a football field, and was sunk by angry protesters at the worst possible spot, making the port mouth unable to accommodate more than half of the ships trapped in the bay and dooming the economy. At least according to Taylor, Danny, and anyone with intimate knowledge would tell you.

Oh, right, she's waiting for my explanation. "My powers have taken over my life Taylor. I didn't really realize it, likely at first because, well, my powers had literally taken control of me, to an extent. Now that my new brain has let me express myself again, and I'm talking to you now. I'm boring. I don't _do_ anything. I just, Tinker, and that's it." I sighed as I scratched at my head. I may love my quills, but having hair is nice.

"Pfft, _you_? _Boring_? Andrew, you're far from boring. You're a driving force for good in this city, maybe later the country, the world for all we know. If you didn't kick the Merchants in the nuts with opportunity, Brockton Bay would still be a gang-infested cesspit. Now, there is...who, Coil? Sure, he's a dick, tried to have me killed and attacked our families, but besides that, he's barely even a threat to the city. Especially now that all there is left is You, and the Protectorate." Taylor outlined passionately, and I shrugged with a sigh. She wasn't getting it.

"That's not what I mean Taylor. I don't have a _life_. I don't have a hobby anymore. I don't eat out. I don't even exercise when I'm not with you." Seriously Taylor. I get you haven't had a life since that bitch Emma backstabbed you, but come on, you have to at least understand this.

"Oh...well, I don't either. Can't we not have a life together?" Taylor cringed when she heard her own words, and I had to quirk a disbelieving brow at her. "Okay, yeah, that was bad. Um. Well, what do you suggest?" She clearly had less of an idea than I did, so I hummed as I crossed my arms in thought.

"Well. It's Black Friday, so people are out wasting their money on expensive things. I'm not hurting for cash myself, but I don't exactly want anything that Leet couldn't just shit out of practically nothing. Wait...we don't exactly have anything to do here in the city for two introverted villains-slash-vigilantes. Why not try out gaming?" I suggested, and Taylor scrunched up her nose. "Hear me out. When they were chatting me up about me looking like a fictional race from a fictional game, the way they described it was like a fantasy epic at least as worthwhile as Tolkien." That might be a big stretch, but it sounded promising.

"Huh. Well, if there's something with a good story, I think I could enjoy it. Sure, let's head back." We had just turned around to jog back to Haven, when we noticed the huge pillar of smoke rising from across the city near Downtown, and we both sighed. "Every single time."

"Every damn time. From now on, let's just read books or something if gaming doesn't work out." I opened my phone and speed-dialed Squealer, who picked up almost instantly. "Hey, Squeals. Any idea what's going on downtown?"

"The fucking Teeth." Squealer snarled with such hate and fury I cringed. I've never heard her so genuinely pissed off. Not even when she's screeching Tie-Dye's ears off for pulling some dumb stunt. "Those fucking bastards _dare_ to show their filthy dicks here again! Deal, I didn't call you because this isn't your fight. This is personal for Skids and I. Just relax."

"Squeal, there has to be something I can do." I'm just as strong as any Merchant, and I have my gear. I've put down Lung for fuck's sake, I've gotta be useful in some way.

"Can you fucking handle fighting a hulking monster that interrupts powers when he screams? A bitch with razor-sharp barriers that she can spawn all the fuck she wants? A lemming who can spew an endless torrent of bodies at you? How about a masochist who uses blood as a weapon? Or the fucking Butcher for all that matters?" Squealer hissed, and I felt a sinking in my chest. The fact she doesn't think I can contribute hurts. "Deal, you're a good kid, I don't want you to die to godless fucks like the Teeth, and the easiest way to prevent that is to keep you away." I heard a loud series of crashes through her end of the line, and she cackled happily.

"...Okay. You stay safe Sher." I dejectedly accepted, and hung up. Why are my eyes blurry? "It's the Teeth. They're back in the Bay. Squealer told me to stay away."

"Oh that's not fair. Those assholes are murderers of the highest order, next to the Slaughterhouse 9. She may have told you to stay away Andrew, but I'm not about to let monsters like them hurt my home." Taylor looked around, then every bug within a around a block radius surged towards us, and I watched as Taylor's body exploded into hair-thin tendrils and absorbed every single bug, turning her into a bulging behemoth of buzzing chitin easily 12 feet tall on it's pole-like millipede legs. "Want a ride to victory?" Taylor's 'swarm voice' buzzed.

"No. Not feeling it now. Stay safe Taylor, don't let any heroes catch you." I waved my girlfriend off, and she skittered thunderously towards the smoke at impressive speeds up and over the rooftops, even if she did break a couple windows on the way up, but nobody lived around here anymore. Well, at least not legally. Feeling dejected, I aimlessly meandered through the streets towards the train yard. I was hindered by idly dealing with a few idiot muggers who hadn't joined up with us by breaking wrists and offering membership by pointing them towards a safehouse.

Even if they decided to snitch to the cops, it was a throwaway spot for recruitment anyway. That said, it only took me an hour to get back to the yard, by which time the massive pillar of smoke had spread and the PRT was out in full force, the sky over downtown was filled with aircraft, both seen and very likely unseen. I had to wait after buzzing for a van in, and once inside, was met by silence. Only a skeleton crew was still here. Asking one of the cafeteria ladies got me the answer that Squealer and Skidmark basically got all hands on board as possible.

Obviously, not including me or the more civilian members. Not even pumpkin spice Nutrigel soft-serve took the sting out of that. I thought I was someone reliable, not just some resource to be coddled. Sighing, I finished my food and went to my lab, turning off my collar and cracking my neck. If they felt I was more use in here than out there, then I'd better get to work. Being in costume for tinkering felt good. Like when I first started out, only this time able to appreciate the sensation of fulfillment I lacked as an emotionless zombie. While I was working on making a bacteria culture for an instant non-lethal paralytic I planned to call No-Bones, I noticed a business card on the corner of my most-used section of workspace.

Next to it was a note from Adam, considering it had his unfittingly elegant scrawl, stating that Reverb left the card for me. I picked it up and saw it was a legitimate personalized business card with 'REVERB' in stylized letters with a contact number underneath. I flipped it over, and blinked. "What the…." I couldn't make it out clearly, but there was this distortion on the back of the card. It took me a moment to realize that it was my thermal vision that was seeing something, so I focused my eyes and could see it better, but it wasn't any clearer.

I rubbed my thumb over the distortion, and it seemed to become more vivid, so I pressed on the card between my hands to warm it up, see if whatever it was would become readable. Once I released the now slightly rumpled business card, the rectangle of paperboard was much warmer and when I focused on it, a message that was colder than the card was clear. Said message was very simple, and confusing.

"Door Me?" I jumped at hearing a snap/crackle behind me, and whirled around with my unseen hackles raised, and gaped behind my mask at the door-sized hole in the air, that seemed to be leading into another lab. I looked around my own lab, before approaching warily, sniffing instinctively, even though my mask had isolated such senses, and carefully reached out my tail to test the edges of the portal. It was stable, practically solid, and when I poked my tail through the portal, I barely noticed much difference besides the other lab being colder.

Sighing, figuring Reverb has dragged me into something dangerous and resigning myself, I stepped through, and as expected, the portal collapsed. My heart thundered in my chest. I wasn't scared, rather, I was excited. I just did something stupid, but my neglected sense of adventure was calling. Also, my power was calling. Looking at the table that was set up with a standard chemistry arrangement, my head pulsed in pain and intrigue at the tube of...what seemed to be some sort of slimy meat at the center of the worktable.

As I stared, my head began to hurt more, and more, but for some reason I was drawn to it, inspired. I snarled, closed my eyes and cradled my skull, this was worse than the hangover this morning. "It's rare that a Shard of Eden fallen naturally finds its way home." Before I could react, a lithe form pressed into my back and a pistol was pressed up into my throat. Shit! I haven't coated my scales in Balcoat yet! "Welcome to Cauldron Mr. Ruebs."


	45. Chapter 33

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Agitator 4.6**_

[Friday, November 26, 2010]

After getting a nice throat massage from the 50 caliber Desert Eagle, which was definitely enough to kill me with a direct hit, my assailant oddly let me go, and holstered her gun. Was that a power play? Letting me know she could put me down with ease? "Cauldron? Never heard of it." I turned to face the woman while rubbing my throat, trying to distract myself from the vial of flesh slime that still hurt to look at. She was...plain. She was average in height, proportions, didn't seem too muscular or fat under her black and white suit and fedora, and her vaguely hispanic features were pretty, but so easy to forget it set off alarms that she was _too_ plain.

"Then we're doing our jobs correctly. I am Contessa, and I am the one who arranged this meeting. Follow." The too plain woman ordered, and with a derisive snort, I obeyed. While following, I made note that whatever this place was, it was too clean. Too white. No character at all. I wish I had a can of spray paint just to deface something, it was that bad. It was worse in the hallway. The plain door we left was just one of many, many more lining the seemingly endless hallway walls. We'd just left that small lab room and already I was hopelessly lost.

Well, not really. Focusing on my thermal vision, I looked behind us to see the rapidly fading thermal imprints our presence had left. "May I ask questions?" I queried. In this situation, best to ask permission rather than forgiveness.

"You may, but nothing may come of it." Contessa replied, and I snorted at the byplay.

"How old is Cauldron?" Considering they have either remote portal technology or a cape with remote portal powers, along with this enormous professional setup? They've gotta be old.

"Over four decades." Contessa confirmed for me, and I hummed in consideration.

"Villains, Heroes, or Rogues?" I'm hoping the latter two, but the former is most likely.

"All of the above." Contessa's answer was unexpected, and disturbing.

"Mission statement?" Please have an overarching goal, groups like this are monstrous enough without a specific purpose.

"The salvation of mankind as a species." Her answer made me pause, she didn't miss a step in stopping the instant I did. Cool.

"Whoa...uh...kinda barking up the wrong tree here then, I make mutants." She did say I was going to join this group, or rather that I'd already joined, but if they're trying to save mankind, well….

"Who are still men and women." Contessa stated factually, and I nodded with a shrug. I didn't see my lieutenants, Pantera, or Bitch as being any less human just because they have animal features. But I, being a mutant, don't exactly see myself as being human anymore. Now I'm confused over my conflicting viewpoints. "Don't deny that you're still the same young man before you took your mutagen."

"I won't. I guess I still have some philosophical issues. I and others who use Primal may still be people, but I don't know about being human in the physical definition of the word." Ugh. I started this mess, now I don't know what to think. Not stopping the forced evolution train now, but society won't accept such a drastic and volatile paradigm shift. I have noticed those who have taken Primal, such as myself, are far more in touch with our emotions and impulses than baseline humans. "Anyway, even if I don't have a choice, I don't want to leave my friends and allies in the Merchants behind if I can help it."

"You won't. You'll simply be helping us at the same time." Contessa stated before opening a door into a plain conference room. Only two others were in attendance, a middle-aged blond caucasian man in a black suit that made him look like a professional banker or accountant, and a black woman in a white lab coat. Huh, nice contrast. Why is the man standing and his area of the table has no chairs at all? "Doctor Mother, Number Man. I present Dealer, the nominal driving force behind the Merchants."

"Whoa, whoa. I just gave them the means to liberate themselves from their own metaphorical demons and shackles. They took the rest of the initiative by themselves." I stressed this, because it was true. Otherwise, I'd have been downtown fighting the Teeth instead of tinkering by my lonesome after being told I couldn't.

"If you give them direction, do they not follow it? If you provide means to an end, do they not work towards those ends? They are one and the same." I raised an index finger to protest to Contessa's reasoning, only to wilt and find myself speechless. Shit. I _am_ secretly the boss of the Merchants, aren't I? I mean, I defer to Sherrel and Adam, but whenever I provided them something, they took off running with it. If I provide specific wares...could I manipulate the whole gang into doing what I want them to? "Have a seat, now that you're aware of your influence."

Stunned, and contemplative, I took a seat at the small plain black conference table that wouldn't be out of place in a small office building. "Welcome, I hope Contessa hasn't been too overwhelming." Doctor Mother stated, and I shrugged.

"The Deagle to the throat was a bit much, but otherwise she's been quite informative." I think I actually like Contessa, in retrospect. She was direct and efficient, I appreciate people who can just say what they are trying to get across, or in the case of the high-caliber handgun, do the same through physical gesture. "I actually enjoyed our interactions past that incident."

"Truly?" Number Man asked with a querying gaze towards Contessa, who wordlessly stood behind and to Doctor Mother's right side. "Usually most of our associates find her terrifying."

"I am unsure if it is simply because she clicks well with my personality, or if it's some more primitive part of my brain that I'm unaware of that she appeals to. Being half-human and half-beast is a bit of a toss-up when it comes to the psychological department. Enough about me however, this is about you lot. You're the ones who have nearly abducted me through subtle manipulations via Reverb's contact. What is it you want from me specifically? I charge for my wares if they are going outside the Merchants, in case you didn't already know that somehow." I just remembered my mask is still on, so I took it off and lowered my hood to let the crisp cool air touch my scales and quills. I'm so glad I'm still warm-blooded and enjoy the cold.

"That is part of why we've approached you. We have need of your services, and will pay for your products. We have your illicit contact numbers, so we'll reach you about those at a later time. For now, however, we are here to induct you into the group and discuss your overarching duties to Cauldron." Number Man gestured to Doctor Mother, who was content to let the conversation continue until the floor was open again.

"Yes. You may guess that we're a secret organization, practically the Illuminati, but dealing exclusively with parahumans and their powers. So first of all, you cannot, ever, speak of us to anyone not already aware of Cauldron. If anyone gets suspicious of our affiliation with you, simply state that we're with Toy Box, and most people will drop it, due to Toy Box's extensive dealings both legal and clandestine." Doctor Mother declared, to which I shrugged.

"Needless to say, if I yap, I die, got it." I nodded, already figuring something like that would be the case. Also, they want to buy my wares. More money for me means more exotic materials become available, and thus the crew gets more funding on top of that. That's a plus.

"Basically. On another note, and this is one of the biggest secrets in the world, is that we sell superpowers." I gawked at the doctor, who nodded. "Yes. A good number of heroes, villains, and also rogues have been our customers. To meet our end goal of saving mankind, we need as many parahumans to fight the Endbringers as possible, on top of the true threat, that we will disclose to you at another time."

"Holy shit. Something worse than the Endbringers?" I took deep, calming breaths as I combed my claws through my quills. Fuck. I'm in deep. "Okay. I'll do whatever I can to help, so long as it means I can still participate in Endbringer Battles in a support role as I've been planning." What help could I be though? They already make parahumans, I just make superhumans.

"Excellent. Now the other main reason besides your services, why we have brought you in, is because Contessa believes you can help a good number of Case 53s stabilize their bodies and minds. They are our victims. For as long as we've existed, we've had to either imprison or dump them upon their powers violently mutating them unexpectedly, and you could help us release a good number of the ones we have imprisoned on site back into society." Doctor Mother dispassionately informed me, and I felt a little sick.

"Firstly, you've lost a good deal of any respect I had for you at so blatantly mistreating your test subjects. Secondly, you've regained a good deal of said respect at seeking aid for them. I'll see what I can do, but it'll probably have to be a case-by-case ordeal if I can't come up with a blanket solution." So Cauldron are the ones responsible for the Case 53 phenomenon. That's one mystery solved, but what purpose would they have making villains as well as heroes and rogues on top of the 'monster' capes? A good number of villains don't even participate in Endbringer Battles, let alone rogues. How many prisoners have they accrued on top of that?

"Understandable, which is why we will contact you on occasion to examine a patient and see what you could do for them. We have other things we would like your assistance with, but for now, we'll just focus on purchasing your wares and helping more Case 53s be more able to return to society." Doctor Mother stated before standing, I followed her example as I put my mask back on. "Number Man will be in contact with you to discuss our purchases."

"Hold on. Besides the business exchange, where do I really benefit in this situation? Because 'you get to live' is a really raw deal." I huffed as I crossed my arms, but nobody seemed offended, if anything they seemed to expect it without disappointment.

"You may use us to acquire things that you would otherwise be unable to. Resources. Information. People." Contessa emphasized on the People bit, not sure what she's getting at. "Also, should you find yourself backed into a corner with no way out, you may, only in dire circumstances, request a Door to here. Now, our personal interaction has reached its end. Door To: Dealer's Apartment." The same portal from before opened in the air, and at Contessa's nod of dismissal, I shrugged and walked out into my apartment living room, the portal snapping shut.

Before I could even get my bearings, my phone rang. Suspiciously convenient…. "Hello?"

"Yo Andy! How'd talking to the Sawbones go?" Reverb's voice asked conversationally, and I took that as a cue to be casual in return.

"It went well, the doc said I was in good health, but I should expect a call to schedule another appointment soon." I moved to my luxurious couch and plopped onto the huge and comfortable seat.

"That's good to hear. She's expensive, but worth the money. I'm a regular patient of hers, so if you have any questions you don't wanna bother her with, ask me instead." Reverb, or Geno, was being rather obvious if cryptic, was he in public or something, or was this how Cauldron operated outside of secure lines? This is going to get old fast if it's the latter.

"Yeah, I'll do that. Well, how are things going with your niece?" I took off my mask and leaned over the arm of the couch to get more comfortable.

"Oh we had breakfast, had a good talk. Then those damn Teeth interrupted, had to book it outta there." So at least I know Pantera's safe with her uncle then, but also that Reverb didn't bother to intervene. I have mixed feelings about that. "Well that's all I got for ya. You stay safe Andy."

"You too Geno." I hung up at the obvious dismissal and sighed as I rubbed my still somewhat aching head at the fact that Reverb was apparently my Cauldron contact. I'd rather Contessa be my contact, at least she doesn't scare the crap out of me like he does. Speaking of which, I got up, stomped downstairs to my lab, and stripped down to nothing, before climbing over the rim of the Balcoat vat and taking a quick dip. This may lock me at my current size or force me to shed my skin if I took Surge again and got bulkier, but that Deagle was risk enough for me to make this decision easily if a bit hastily.

I then spent the following half-hour constantly moving and shaking in the empty corner of my lab to keep my quills from matting and fusing to my scales, even keeping all orifices open or flexing, including my...groin, so it didn't seal up like Tie-Dye's did. That was a fairly unpleasant tale to hear from the nurses who had to surgically reopen that orifice, quite violently too.

Once the Balcoat had dried and my sensation of touch was now near-permanently slightly muted, I gave my equipment a Balcoat treatment, and then went to work on my No-Bones again while they dried on prepared sheets of paper, leaving me in the nude since I was in the zone and didn't want to waste time going upstairs for some pants. After about an hour of work, the initial prototype batch of No-Bones was ready, but would need testing, so I set it aside and went straight to work on another project I'm calling Knockout, which like No-Bones is meant to be a safer way to incapacitate someone besides leaving them without oxygen, this time by inducing sleep.

I would have to consider the method of delivery for both however. I could easily pelletize them both, but all sorts of things could go wrong if I just have them as loose ammunition for another slingbow. In fact, even so, I want my slingbow back, but now I could just ask or commission Leet to make one...actually, why stop there? Couldn't he make some sort of pistol that could fire variable munitions? I immediately paused my work to get my phone at the end of the table.

"Leet here! Who's calling?" Leet clearly hasn't added my new number to his phone yet.

"Dealer. Hey, could you make a high-quality slingbow for me? As well as a pistol that can fire quarter-inch quarrels?" I idly checked my gear while I asked. Still wet, getting there though.

"Uh...if you have the former, why do you need the latter? A slingbow is more than good enough at launching near anything that size with lethal force as well as arrows." While I listened, I figured I could use the Fogger setup to one-handedly prepare more of said deployables.

"I need something I can preload with volatile munitions that may otherwise backfire if I have them loose for use with a slingbow." Put in empty can, pull lever, wait, done.

"Ah. Okay, that makes sense. I'll get to work on that once I'm done with this next set of blueprints I'm emailing to Dragon." Oh yeah, Leet is feeding Dragon simplified schematics, blueprints, and recipes for her to replicate. She may not be able to do so as quickly as Leet, but she still could in her own way, and anything to help the city and the world is a good thing.

"Thanks Leet. Anything you want in exchange? I mean, you do more than enough for the crew as a whole, and this is just a personal thing I'm asking for." We're not hurting for money, even though losing the fishery did hurt quite a bit. Hopefully the citizens of Brockton Bay understood we weren't running 'protection' but were offering legitimate security services soon.

"So long as you promise to help me with some of my bio-tinkering, I'll consider it even." I flinched at the idea of Leet doing any bio-tinkering. Sure, he could do it, and now that he knows how his power works, do it reliably, but it doesn't change the fact that he's easily far more dangerous than me, maybe even Bonesaw or Nilbog with the raw potential his creations had.

"Uh, just so you're aware if you aren't already, I Specialize in MIcrobiology with a dash of chemistry and biochemistry. So I'm not really up for wetwork." I shuddered at the idea of getting elbows-deep into something, or some _one_ still alive to twist them to my whims. Nasty.

"I know, but working together with Squealer or Trainwreck has provided good results, so working with you, we might come up with something incredible. I mean, you accidentally made us all ageless, imagine what we could do if we collaborated." Leet's honeyed words damn me! He's right! My power, recently more reticent just exploded back into the fore, my brain hurting. HURTING! ARGH!

"Fffffffuck! Ow!" I stumbled away from my work table, and kept my eyes shut. It felt like my brain was trying to push out of my eye sockets, which were much larger than before. "Yeah, yeah. Good idea. Let's talk about that later." I hung up before Leet could ask what was up, stumbled over to one of the storage cases and fumbled for some Addictol. I jammed it into my arm after I tapped any air bubbles out of the needle, and then lamented I hadn't made some sort of pain killer. Crap, I should make some pain killer. It might end up even more addictive than heroin, but damn it, whatever my brain's doing is NOT pleasant!

I curled on the floor, waiting to see if Addictol helps with my head, and after the usual 30 minutes, the blinding agony reduced to a dull ache, so I got back up, stretched, and moved back to work on the Knockout-.

"Woo~! That's a nice thing to come home to!" I jolted out of my light daze at hearing Pantera's voice, and gasped as she practically tackled me, forcing me to brace my hands on the table to avoid getting a face full of the petri dish of unfinished Knockout. I grunted as she began grinding on me and rubbing her hands up and down my torso, before rubbing my groin and getting me to groan through grit teeth. "We're all alone, just you and me, and this kitty is tired of waiting." Pantera huskily stated, before picking me up and carrying me towards the stairs, my limbs flailing uselessly.

"P-Pan! Serious things are happening and you want-?!" I was thrown through the air, making me yelp moments before hitting the floor at the foot of the stairs, and realizing I didn't have any choice, as well as not being resistant to the idea nymore, I ran up the stairs with Pantera excitedly following.

I dodged her pounce in the living room, ran down the hall to our shared bedroom, and managed to dig out a condom from the nightstand before she grabbed me from behind and threw me violently onto the bed, jumping on me and literally ripping her halter-top off before grabbing the condom and violently making out with me as she dry-humped my thigh, getting me to snarl and grab her jean-clad ass, thankful it wasn't Balcoat treated as I tore it open to get at the tight and gropable cheeks as her Guise Belt faltered and she returned to her regal feline form.

"About time we did this!" Pantera declared as she moved up and began grinding on my lower abs while she tore open the condom wrapper with her sharp teeth, and she paused in surprise. "Cherry flavored?" I grumbled and looked away in embarrassment before she purred. "Someone wants a blowjob? We already did that while you were drunk."

"W-what?! Bitch said we didn't have sex!" So I DID lose my virginity while drunk?!

"We didn't have straight-up sex. To Bitch, if tab A isn't being put into slot B, then sex didn't happen." Pantera rolled her eyes, before bouncing on me some more, and finally my phallus decided to appear between her exposed cheeks. "So don't worry babe. You're losing your virginity properly, right now, with me." Pantera groped a breast as she took the condom out of it's wrapper fully, and wiggled her eyebrows as she slipped it over her tongue, and I began to heat up so much I thought my scales would burst into flames. "Less get hiss on you~..."

As she grinded down over me, I hissed and braced myself for a wild ride.

[Pick Your Poison is a Lemon-Free Zone. Sorry to Disappoint. Most of my other stories fail when I fall into the Lemon Pit-Fall and can't get out, and they end up subsuming my stories. I Refuse to allow Pick Your Poison to fall into the same tentacle pit and die. Enjoy the teasing~]


	46. Interlude 4c

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Overseer**_

[Sunday, November 28, 2010]

"I would like to formally welcome you aboard Mr. Zeitz." Daniel Hebert stated with a smile at the former Medhall warehouse worker, who shook his hand excitedly with both of his huge hands enveloping Danny's smaller one, but it was Danny who had to try not to squeeze too hard.

"Thank you! When do I start? I can start right now." Mr. Zeitz was a clean-shaven bear of a man, who Danny was originally hesitant to consider hiring considering his name and strong Aryan features, along with his former employers being outed as an Empire Eighty Eight operation, but the blond man was clearly just an honest worker from the vibe he put out. From the interview, it was obvious Mr. Zeitz had been shocked when he learned he'd been unknowingly supporting Neo-Nazis with his simple job moving what they both hoped was just normal wares.

"Tomorrow at 7AM. By then it'll be light enough out to work safely. Show up here at the yard and ask for Kurt, he'll get you prepped." Danny smiled earnestly, and waved the happy man off. The moment the door closed however, he slumped in his chair in exhaustion. That was the 25th interview he'd conducted today, and he might still have more before his shift was done.

Daniel Hebert had a lot on his plate lately. That was mostly a good thing, a great thing even. As Head of Hiring of the Dock Workers Union, Danny was used to having to either lay off or inform good people they simply had no work and had to let them go in the dying economy of this city. That has been turned on its head by the sly machinations of the Merchants, said plot he wouldn't even know of if he hadn't gotten more involved with his secretary's personal problems.

Since that fateful day, where Marian Ruebs was being extremely forward and unpleasantly flirtatious with her suspicious new, ahem, assets, and he managed to convince her to talk about what was happening to her, his life had turned upside-down in both a good and bad way.

He regretted it at first, when Marian Outed her son to him, explaining she was finally free of her addiction, was getting healthy, visibly younger, and outright strong on top of it thanks to Andrew's Tinker concoctions. The regret was mostly because he had convinced a mother to betray the trust of her son, something he felt he had no right to do. By then it was too late, and he let her pour her heart out to him, which, to his shock, included a desire to date him.

It hurt his conscience and heart at first, but he was indeed lonely and didn't mind dating Marian once he acknowledged that Annette would scoff at the idea of him devoutly refusing another woman after her death and die lonely. That said, he agreed to at least humor her, on the condition he had a chat with Andrew and his plans for his daughter, considering she had been gushing with praise for him at the time and was planning to talk to him anyway.

Danny wasn't prepared to face an emotionless husk of a young man, seemingly dead by all metaphorical purposes. It was one thing to read or hear about genuine sociopaths, it was another to be faced with someone who clearly had no proper human emotions. All attempts at intimidation were pointless, so he simply talked to him and was unexpectedly brought in on the Merchant's grand scheme to revitalize the city.

Said scheme, involved the Tinkers of the former drug-pushing gang collaborating and coming up with fantastic things to feed to Dragon, who is considered The Premier Tinker in the world following Hero's death. That was step one. Step two was to clean and refurbish/rebuild the degrading city of Brockton Bay as a proof of concept for the world with Dragon unknowingly spearheading the effort for them.

On this front, the DWU, and other manual labor organizations in the city were front-and-center in Dragon's hiring credentials, and Danny has been flooded with applicants to the join the DWU since she got the permits from Mayor Christener to clean up the Boat Graveyard first. People were finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, they were clamoring for work, especially with Medhall, one of the biggest corporations on the East Coast, going out of business once the government found evidence of their involvement with E88 and even Gesellschaft.

But besides all that, and his new full head of hair, he had his daughter's happiness and both of their good health thanks to Andrew and the Merchants. But he also almost lost his Little Owl the day before Thanksgiving. His home was assaulted, and he saw people die protecting him. Danny felt horrible, still felt horrible, that anyone died on his behalf. Whoever Coil was, he hoped he dropped dead. But that wasn't all that came of that night, where he thought his daughter was possibly dead, and he had to watch people die horribly for him.

Danny pressed the intercom button. "Mary, call Mike. A few desperate Empire cronies are cutting through the fence at the northwest corner of the yard." Why haven't those idiots just joined the Merchants already? Probably 'True Believers'.

"Ugh. On it Danny." Marian replied, and Danny took another sip of his coffee. "Mike and his team are on the way Danny."

"I already know Mary." Danny mumbled as he rubbed his head, trying not to let the various points of view within his frustratingly large range disorient him too much, and causing a powerful headache. Part of why he blew up at Andrew once his daughter was safe was mostly his paternal rage and concern, and partly from the pulsing pain in his head from seeing, hearing, feeling, EVERYTHING every sentient person within a massive radius was experiencing for the first time. Maddening.

It helped his power obviously took most of the load off of him somehow, and the more people there were, the less stress, but he had no 'off' switch, which led to a hard time sleeping. The Merchants were horny bastards to his chagrin, sure it was incredible to be feeling and experiencing such things from a distance but it was still disturbing as hell. Then there was his screaming in anguish at witnessing and _feeling_ his daughter's first sexual foray. That was another mental scar he didn't need. Thankfully he had Marian and several Merchants holding him down from hunting down Dealer and cutting his dick off in a blind murderous rage.

"Sorry hun, I mean, Danny." Danny smirked at sensing his girlfriend's embarrassment, both in her voice, and what he could see and feel from her. Only she knew about him being a parahuman for now, because he said his 'episode' was a night terror, and frankly he had no clue what direct use his power was in a cape battle. He hadn't noticed any ability to control all the people he sensed through. Also he was still coping, trying to figure out what his power did besides give him a semi-omniscient awareness of all the people within a few blocks radius.

"Not a problem. Who's next on the list?" Danny's brows furrowed, Marian was alone in the waiting room now, and he didn't sense anyone approaching his office from the rest of the building.

"Danny, it's Sunday." Marian huffed, and Danny couldn't think what that meant as he poured himself another cup of joe.

"And?" Danny focused, watching the Empire goons try to threaten Mike and his security team with handguns, only to get tazed by Mike's veteran skill and his similarly skilled associates before the limp-wristed morons could do something they'd regret even more than they already would. Good, he knew Mike could handle some posturing dumb idiots.

"Mr. Zeitz was the last one for today. Even with things improving, it's _still_ a Sunday." Marian emphasized, now undoing some buttons on her blouse to let her sexy mounds breathe a bit, which Danny shamelessly enjoyed from her own point of view. Are his powers making him into a voyeur? He hoped not.

"Oh...huh. Anything else on the schedule for today then?" He sipped his fresh coffee as he watched through her eyes as she browed her computer, already seeing he was practically free for the day. Usually, even before this upswing, he was always busy. But now, with more manpower, and thus more office workers to keep tab of things, a lot of his extra work was now done by lower level workers. "Huh...just gotta prepare tomorrow's interview dockets and browse a few resumes."

"I forget you can do that now." Marian said with a coo, looking around the office, and Danny sputtered and coughed up his coffee out his nose as she quickly unbuttoned her blouse and uncupped her bra from her huge F-cup bosom, playing with herself with groping and nipple rubbing, while pointedly looking down on herself. "Mmm...enjoying hun?"

"M-m-Mary! P-put your clothes back on!" Although Danny didn't really want her to, and he couldn't sense anyone approaching her, or could see her, he didn't want to encourage this sort of behavior. At least not in public. "Please don't use my powers against me."

"Hard not to, considering you can't stop 'peeping'." Marian teased before thankfully putting her clothes back on properly. "But you're right. Work now, fun later. Let's finish up and leave early. I want to go to the Boardwalk, maybe go to dinner and a movie." What came after was obvious.

"Sounds like a plan." Danny happily agreed as he cleaned himself off, but frowned, and became worried as his powers clued him in on other unexpected guests. "Uh...Mary. Is there anything in the office system about a visit from the PRT?" He felt shock when a second van followed, this one containing Miss Militia. "Specifically Miss Militia?" Danny straightened himself out, making sure he had no coffee stains on his clothes or on his desk with some paper towels.

"Um, no. Why?" Marian asked in concern, and Danny picked up his stress ball from the desk to knead his worries as the first van quickly requested entry, and Mike, seeing no problem with them coming in, since it meant offloading the goons they caught earlier, gave them the okay. Within just a couple minutes, the vans were in the DWU compound, heading straight for his office building.

"Because we're about to have unexpected visitors and Miss Militia is among them." At Danny's words, Marian cursed and straightened herself out some more, buttoning her blouse all the way. "Act natural. Be surprised, but professional."

"I'm a secretary Danny, I know how to do my job." Marian snarked, before turning the intercom off and busying herself. Danny did as well, but it didn't distract him from how Miss Militia dutifully and unerringly started on a path straight for his office with a couple of PRT troopers flanking her, only pausing occasionally to ask directions. Danny tried and failed to read the resume on his monitor, but couldn't ignore the points of view that would be involving him soon.

When Militia entered the waiting room with her companions, Danny was thankful Marian was a good actress, as she looked gobsmacked for a moment from the heroine and trooper's perspectives, before she visibly gathered herself. "U-um. Hello Miss Militia. Are you here to see Mr. Hebert?"

"Yes Miss...Ruebs. Is he available?" Militia politely asked, and Marian nodded.

"Yes. He just finished with his last interview of the day." Marian buzzed his intercom, and he promptly answered.

"Yes Mary?" He made sure to inject as much curiosity in his voice as possible.

"Mr. Hebert, Miss Militia's here to see you." Marian in return made sure to add a hint of concern and suspicion in her reply.

"Militia? Uh, send her in." He didn't have to fake any of his bewilderment, which made his part in their play more convincing he hoped as he straightened out his desk, making sure it seemed he was hastily cleaning up for the unexpected visit.

"Go on in. Is Mr. Hebert in any danger or…?" Marian fished, only for Miss Militia to shake her head.

"No, this isn't anything like that. I won't be long." Miss Militia gestured for her two troopers to stand outside the door, and briskly entered Danny's office, seeing the man clearly trying to clean up a bit for her.

"Hello, um, pardon the mess." Danny had gone to his shelf of knick knacks and was dusting them with a feather duster, said cleaning implement suddenly found itself nervously dumped in the dustbin before he moved back to his desk. "Coffee?"

"No thank you." Miss Militia politely declined, and Danny sat back down at his desk, gesturing for her to do the same, which she did. "I'm sure you're wondering why I am here."

"That goes without saying. It's not every day that a Hero shows up at your office out of the blue like this. Is something wrong?" He tried valiantly to channel his nervousness into the idea that he might be in trouble for something he was innocent over.

"Yes and no. I'll get to the point so I don't inconvenience you too much Mr. Hebert. Are you aware that your daughter is a Parahuman?" At Militia's question, Danny broke out in a cold sweat, his breath caught in his throat, his eyes widened. He probably looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Clearly not then. I'm sorry you had to find out this way." Militia consoled with genuine concern and care.

However, Danny's reaction wasn't due to a revelation, but the absolute horror that his Little Owl was already Outed to the government and she hasn't even been a cape for a week. "H-h-how c-c-can this be? I-I mean, she did say she was manhandled by some thugs at that Godsmack concert." He figured if he could channel his panic correctly, he could get through this meeting.

"One of our Wards patrols was passing through the concert when they heard a commotion. Upon investigating, they discovered a girl had been kidnapped. One of the Wards positively identified the victim as Taylor Hebert shortly before the Merchants arrived, likely contacted by one of your daughter's friends, and cooperated with the patrol to hunt down the kidnappers in an attempt to rescue your daughter. The report on her Trigger Event and resulting powers are incredibly disturbing, and I advise that you get her therapy as soon as possible." Militia stressed, and Danny didn't have to hide the simmering fury he still had for the people who hurt his Little Owl, even if she did deal instant and fatal retribution. Then again...that too might be bad.

"She has been avoiding me since the concert. I should've known something was wrong...thank you for telling me. Now, what do you intend to do to my little girl?" Danny easily entered 'papa bear' mode, seeing Militia and her organization as a threat, which Militia hastily raised her hands in appeasement as a response.

"Nothing. She's done nothing wrong, and is simply a victim. Certainly she has killed several people, but considering it was in a Trigger Event, a known mental trauma situation, she's been excused for the deaths of her kidnappers as a case of self defense. Her appearance at the battle with the Teeth on Friday, however, has her tentatively marked as an Independant Hero as of current." She informed him with a note of pride in her tone. "It is good to see such an upstanding young woman so quickly turn her gifts towards good."

"That's a relief. I'll gently bring it up at dinner tonight. Set her straight, have her consider her options." Danny mentally groused that in case they were being watched, he'd have to cancel the sudden date Marian had concocted. That, and he would have to limit his visits to Haven, set up more secretive methods for him to do so, likely the same for Taylor, Andrew, and Marian too.

"The Wards would gladly accept her. She's very powerful and morally upstanding from what we've seen and been informed of. Otherwise, I would also like to warn you about the Merchants." Militia's shift in topic made Danny mentally sigh as she nodded for her to continue. "Since they were called up by your daughter's friends, friends I advise she distance herself from immediately, they more than likely are also in the know of her identity and would probably try to pressgang her into their group."

"And why would that be a bad thing? Militia, pardon my French, but your people haven't exactly been the shining beacon of hope to the people you're supposed to be. The Merchants have become those people. Why would Taylor deciding to join up with them be worse than joining up with your lot?" He was curious. How could the heroes remain so sanctimonious in this situation?

"Because they are Villains. Criminals. They've raped, robbed, and murdered. They may claim they've turned themselves around, that they're good people now. But they have outstanding charges against them and must pay for their crimes, regardless of their recent actions." Miss Militia declared with full confidence, and honestly, Danny was fairly inspired with her conviction. At the same time though, he felt it little better than the conviction the Empire had. Obviously, the heroine didn't see the truth, stuck in a view of Black and White and unwilling to see the Grey.

"I see. I'll be sure to stress this to Taylor. Thank you. Is there anything else Miss Militia?" He hoped not, his powers were telling him enough from hearing the PRT Troopers detailing they would be maintaining a vigil on him to 'protect' him from villains since Taylor's ID was nearly public knowledge with multiple organizations and the government aware of her. Damn it.

"Not really, no. But...your secretary. What do you know about her?" At her suspicious question, Danny entered full defensive mode. "Has she shown any drastic physical changes lately?"

"I know that she's a single mother who's lost a husband and has been a recovering addict for the past year. She has shown to be rejuvenated, and she's finally free of her addiction thanks to therapy and help groups, but I don't see what that has to do with anything." Danny declared, feeling sweat running under his thankfully thick head of hair. Hopefully she didn't get nosy and ask other members of the office staff who might go into more incriminating detail. Marian didn't need to be arrested for suspicion of gang activity.

"That's good to hear. It was good to speak with you Mr. Hebert." Militia said pleasantly before she took out a few information pamphlets from her utility belt and put them on his desk. "More information about the Wards program, as well as other info packets that could be of help."

"Thank you, I'll give them a read and have Taylor read them too." Danny nodded amicably at her, and once the naturally shapely and fit younger woman left his office, he snatched the pamphlets and tossed them in the trash with a snarl. He waited until Militia was down the hall and her troopers were with her before he buzzed Marian. "Mary, get in here." He ordered, and he didn't have to wait long before Marian rushed into the office and closed the door as he looked out the window at the departing PRT vans, but he sensed a group of plain clothes officers in a nondescript white panel van start hovering around the edge of the yard, getting him to grit his teeth. "They know Taylor's identity."

"What?! What're we going to do?" Marian fretted, nervously running her hands through her golden blonde hair.

"There's nothing we _can_ do." Danny admitted with grit teeth, trying to tell from any of the POV available if they had listening devices tapping local cell phone conversations so he could know if calling the Peepers on overwatch a short altitude above for advice was a good or bad idea. What use was this power if all it did was tell him how fucked he was? He looked up, in the general direction he sensed his Peeper overwatch, and focused hard, wishing he could-.

"Holy shit!" Danny suddenly declared, only, it wasn't his voice. He looked around frantically at the inside of the Skiff, and then down, seeing a pair of large breasts in snug military fatigues. He, temporarily she, could still Sense everything everyone nearby was, but it was still centered around where his own body was. Said body was currently desperately fretting to Marian that _she_ was up in the sky on overwatch a moment ago. "I can swap bodies with people!"

"TANGO! MASTER!" Another Peeper declared before tackling Danny, and he struggled vainly, unused to his current body.

This was going to be tough to explain….


	47. Chapter 34

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Agitator 4.7**_

[Monday, November 29, 2010]

Yesterday, after Danny and mom got to Haven using a method I'm unaware of, he told me the PRT/Protectorate knew Taylor's Civ ID. I figured that meant Sophia likely offered her up to save her own skin, so I in turn told Taylor that Sophia is Shadow Stalker.

That she didn't take it well was an understatement, all that truly kept her from amassing a swarm and rushing downtown to exact vengeance was that she was at Haven at the time, and nobody was willing to let her out once Sherrel and I put out an announcement that she was to be detained for her own good. It may not have earned me any points with my girlfriend, but considering she's currently considered a Hero, I didn't want her to throw that away even for serious vengeance.

That was the biggest thing that happened yesterday, besides Trainwreck catching Spree and escaping the rest of the Teeth. Now the mass self-duplicator was locked in one of Trainwreck's cells, snarling like a mad dog and filling his cell with so much rapidly decomposing meat from his degrading clones trying to escape; we had some of the crew ferrying some of that meat to the Stim vat. The rest...ew, but Leet's replicator was turning it into more 'pork'. Eugh.

But that was yesterday. Right now, walking into Winslow felt like walking to my own execution, or something else equally grim and unpleasant. Not even having Taylor by my side, squeezing my hand for both our mutual support helped much on that front. We didn't speak on the way in, too nervous to. It didn't take long for the noticeable break in the flow of traffic to reveal Sophia and Barnes waiting. Instead of any snarky remarks or venomous barbs, Sophia gestured with her head for us to follow, and we did so without much hesitation. They were beneath us after all.

The Jock and Queen Bee led us to an unused classroom, over half the floor space dominated with spare desks and chairs. Whatever we were expecting, we weren't expecting to be jumped. I growled in annoyance as Sophia tackled me the moment the door was closed, mashing lips with me. But I had to widen my eyes when Taylor yelped and I watched Barnes drag her to the floor, frantically making out with my shocked and confused girlfriend. I snarled and shoved Sophia off of me. "The absolute fuck?! Get off of her!" I demanded as I moved and I yanked Barnes off of Taylor. She was still stunned and looking up at Barnes in astonishment. "What the fuck is going on here?!"

"We're surrendering. You've won. You're Strong. Now let me go so I can make out with my sexy best friend!" Barnes demanded, elbowing me in the gut and pouncing on Taylor again, getting another meek yelp out of her as she tried to resist her former best friend's advances, and I pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling a migraine coming on at the wording she used.

"Sophia. I swear to fucking god. If you're the reason Barnes has such fucked-up logic, I'm going to bite you." I growled, and instead of being scared, that seemed to only get her even more excited if her smirk and the two rock-hard nipples tenting her plain white T-shirt meant anything. "Ugh, you're both fucking crazy. Okay, business. Did you rat out Taylor to your bosses?"

"I fucking had to. Kid Win was there too, so I couldn't deny anything, and then there was the fact that they were threatening Juvie if I didn't properly file a report. You may have promised to spring me if that happened, but then I'd be a fucking villain, and I'd never get to see my family again." Sophia snarled, clearly upset with the situation at least as much as I was. "Also, my overwatch here is tighter, so we won't be able to do this as often. Just let me have this."

I looked down, and my eyebrows shot up my forehead at seeing Taylor had turned the tables, but instead of getting away she was now dominating Barnes in a contest of tongues and groping. Squeezing each other tightly, their boobs mashing against each other as their groins grinded on the other's thigh. Their shirts were off, pants going soon. With a sigh, I looked back up at Sophia and charged her, much to her joy if her shocked yet excited face meant anything.

[Pick Your Poison]

Sophia wasn't kidding. The visible PRT presence at Winslow had definitely increased. Also, they were clearly keeping an eye not only on Sophia, but Taylor too, and by extension, myself. This would make doing anything much harder than before. If we had to skip due to something going on, only Sophia would be able to without resistance or suspicion due to her Ward status. On top of that, absolutely everyone was suspect now. Nobody was innocent. I saw several students get waylaid by 'hall monitors' for breaking dress code and sending them to the dean. We have a dean now? We have a 'dress code'? Where the hell was the dean before?

That said, several of the Rats were browbeaten into detention as well, since there was no strict 'dress code' at Winslow before, and even if there was, nobody was held to it. Apparently I, Taylor, and the Bitch Trio passed muster since we weren't bothered at all, but then again we likely got special treatment since Sophia and Taylor are both known capes to them. Although, we are wearing fairly conservative clothes, pants and shirts and whatnot. One did comment on my collar and told me to take it off, but the moment he did I glared so fiercely he went pale and scurried off. Fuck you. This is MY collar. Also it's my disguise, I'm not outing myself so stupidly.

The tense atmosphere aside, it was actually an interestingly good day, considering this is Winslow I'm talking about. Sophia was still a tad bit public with her interest in me though, what with her still grabbing me when she figured she could get away with it and seemingly unable to stop leering at me. Taylor also complained at lunch that Emma was doing the same thing to her, and she had no idea how to handle it. Considering I faced the same thing, I sighed and told her to at least humor her and try to understand where she was coming from, what motivated her.

There was, of course, no bullying anymore. At first, Clements was confused why they were being nice to us, but it seemed she was quick to adapt and drop the ingrained hostility, at least for now. The hanger-ons were slower to catch on, and usually got verbally chastised by them when they noticed, but it was a good sign that in spite of our new PRT overlords, Winslow might finally be improving.

Especially since all the gangs have kinda dissolved and the former members in the student body have started getting more intersocial since their new bodies seemed to promote confidence and competition on a more visceral level. There were still fights, but the PRT oversight at least ensured nothing got serious and it was broken up quickly. It was still uncanny and interesting to see former skinheads sitting at the same lunch tables as people of other races and getting along. The fact the guys insisted on participating in displays of strength was a sore point with the staff though, considering it was very disruptive, but promoted amiable feelings.

Gym suffered the most from it. Everyone, guys and girls, were beyond excited and happy to exercise. But we, I'm including myself and my friends/frenemies in this, got carried away.

Mr. Knight, the new PRT-appointed PE instructor was an aging veteran who worked with Parahumans and was more than suited to overseeing Brutes, but the equipment was not up to par with us. I accidentally bent a dumbbell handle by squeezing too hard. Taylor jumped too high and hit her head on the rafters. Sophia ran too fast and couldn't stop before she slammed into a wall, thankfully she didn't out herself. Mr. Knight was visibly having a migraine from trying to coach us that we're learning _control,_ not how to improve more. Guess it's one thing to train heroes, and another to train a school of competitive teens.

I mean, even Veder of all people was excited for PE and he usually didn't care about anything if it wasn't a video game.

Accidents aside, odd new paradigm aside, today was...a good day. Huh. Compared to this morning where I felt dread walking in, I felt fairly optimistic as we were leaving. "So...um…." I paused and turned around with Taylor, who was by my side as we'd been crossing the front lawn of the school, and we looked at Emma in bewilderment. "Uh...do you...wanna hang out?" I...have no idea how to process that. First instinct is to scream 'hell no' in her face, but it isn't my call. I looked at Taylor, who looked absolutely shocked, and unable to respond. "I mean...you're Strong now. I don't have to worry about you breaking again." Emma fidgeted as she awaited Taylor's response, and I was curious to see what she had to say.

"...Emma...you're damaged." Emma flinched at Taylor's angry, yet sad voice. "Dear god, what happened to you? Why did you do all of this to me? To us? Why are you jumping my bones out of the blue too?" Taylor demanded in confusion, and Emma bit her lip as she looked around.

"I...I was almost raped. By ABB." Emma admitted hoarsely, as if just saying it hurt, which it likely did. "Me and dad, we were driving through some alley to get around a blockade, but it was a trap we fell into. They pulled us out, threatened me. Dad couldn't do anything with them holding him and with me hostage. I struggled. Because I struggled, Sophia saved me." Emma smiled softly. "She said I was a Survivor. That I was Strong. That was why she saved me."

"So what? You latched onto her like a pathetic little limpet? You dropped me like a sack of shit for that bitch just because she was there when I couldn't be?!" Taylor struck like lightning. The impact of her hand on Emma's face sounded like a bone snapping with the force she put into the slap that spun Emma like a top and sent her stumbling to the grass. "If you just told me I would've been there for you! If you just TALKED to me, instead of fucking TORTURED me, I would've helped you Emma!"

"I know…." Emma weakly sobbed, sniffling as she pushed herself up, and rubbed her bright red and rapidly purpling left cheek. "But I had to...make you Strong. I _had_ to Taylor. I knew you had it in you. I just knew you couldn't bring it out on your own. You were always so strong as it was. I had to Break you first…." Emma emphasized, and after a few silent moments, Taylor looked around at the peanut gallery that was watching, including PRT agents visibly reporting on their headsets.

"Not here." I quietly insisted, turning around and walking towards the bus that would take us most of the way to Taylor's house. Danny suggested we take the bus and meet up inside his basement today to show us how we're going to be getting to Haven without tipping off the PRT. The bus was just so we don't draw too much attention by running and sprinting like we've been doing, at least for a little bit. Also, Emma was wearing high-heel pumps that, while secure looking and covering most of her feet, were clearly not meant for running. She must have cheap sneakers for gym in her locker.

We got on the bus and rode the route to Taylor's house with little fanfare, but the increased size of all the students did make it a much tighter squeeze, which many clearly didn't mind, or even took advantage of to get free feels. Ugh. Teenagers are such perverts.

After having to deal with ignoring being groped and the very pungent smells a cramped bus filled with hormonal superhuman teenagers produced, we unanimously decreed that we would never use the bus again if we could help it once we got off. With that, we followed Taylor to her house, which had a replacement front step that hadn't been painted yet, and entered with little fanfare. "Want anything to drink?" Taylor directed at us as she headed for the kitchen.

"Coke please." The crew doesn't like Coke for some reason. I figure it's because the original recipe had cocaine in it. I moved to the couch and gently sat down, Emma joined me on the recliner. "So. You're a Parahuman?"

"I guess? Sometimes I see this...shimmer. Or glow that seems to come from inside people's heads. I also get weird impressions on what would hurt them more. I can do that part to anyone, but it's stronger with Parahumans. Other than that, I don't have anything I'd consider powers." Emma said clearly and aimed towards the kitchen, where Taylor came from shortly with a can of coke for me, warmed tea for her, and a can of vanilla Coke for her. "You remembered?"

"We used to be friends Ems. Of course I do." Taylor replied sadly, before she sighed and sipped her tea. "So. Your power, which you got from being nearly raped I guess-." Emma flinched violently, making Taylor and I cringe. "-Definitely then. Sorry. Was feeding you everything you needed to peck away at people?"

"At least those vulnerable. Once you started finally fighting back, started standing up for yourself, I thought I could stop there. But then you showed up today, and the dim glow in your head has become a bright beacon like him." Emma nodded towards me. "I was so happy that I couldn't stand it. I knew it meant you'd suffered even more, but it also meant you came back stronger for it." Emma smiled weakly at Taylor, who looked disappointed and resigned. "I may have been a real bitch the past two years, but I never stopped caring."

"You sure have a fucked up way of expressing it." I snarled, putting a hand to my collar and turning it off, sighing in relief as my true form returned and my fake shoes vanished while my tail wormed around Taylor's waist, pulling her into me with a surprised yelp on her part. Taylor was turning red while Emma was turning pale. "I mean, c'mon. You can't tell me you think what you said was at all healthy. Haven't you even gone to a counselor?"

"D-daddy had me talk to a shrink for a couple weeks, but Sophia gave me the strength to move on. She called you weak and I couldn't stand that, so I wanted to try and prove to her that you were Strong, and were just hiding your true strength." Emma sipped her soda and sighed. "I wish I didn't now. I lost a sister because I didn't want you to break again. I figured if I threw enough crap at you that you'd finally decide you had enough and would come out of your shell."

"Well. Good work. You failed to do anything besides push me away." Taylor snarked as she leaned into me more. "Then again, if my dragon hadn't kidnapped me from that horrible castle, I'd still be having to deal with all the peons." Taylor snorted at her horrible and cheesy words, while I groaned, and Emma had to gall to giggle at us. "Well. If anything, I'd say things broke pretty even. You may have pushed me away, but you may have pushed me into _this_ ~." Taylor ran a hand through my plumage, and I crooned at the pleasant sensation.

"Oh my god. You two are so precious." Emma smiled brightly, before sighing and chugging her soda. "Ah. Well, I've said my piece. You probably have stuff to do and don't want to show me, so I'll just make my way home." Emma stood, but Taylor waved for her to stop, and she looked up at me imploringly, to which I chuffed and grumbled.

"You're too soft Taylor." I stated before I turned my collar back on and stood. "Follow me. Leet said he set something up in the basement so we could get to Haven discreetly." Whatever it was, I hoped it worked, because squeezing a Skiff into Taylor or I's backyard is a harrowing experience I only want to face once. "What the…?" What is that? It's this metal archway set against the wall under the stairs. It doesn't even have any protrusions, it's just a solid arch.

"Um...maybe we're supposed to just walk in?" Taylor suggested, and I sighed before I turned my collar off and moved my tail towards the inside of the arch, which seemed to be just the wall it was mounted to. The way my tail sank in like passing through water, and making the seemingly solid surface ripple as such, I huffed and walked through the portal, finding myself in the loading dock area of the former train yard. With a look back at the archway, I saw a sign over it labeled 'Hebert'. "Whoa." Taylor uttered as she joined me, and Emma carefully followed suit. "That's convenient."

"No doubt, but it also makes another weak point in Haven's security." I pointed out before I began heading across the yard towards my lab, avoiding the crew members who even now were helping Sherrel with the frames of her concept vehicles. "Well Taylor, go ahead and give your maybe-a-friend a tour. I'll be in my lab making ammo for my new weapons."

"Okay Dealer. Follow me closely Emma, the Merchants are always busy so we better stay out of their way." I heard Taylor say before the sounds of metalworking drowned her out.

I made my way back to my lab and promptly went over to the obnoxiously bright red present on my main worktable. I tore it open without fanfare, and grinned like a maniac as I pulled out the huge handgun that looked both conventional enough to be something anyone could design, but also unique enough it seemed to be out of science fiction. It was a revolver about the size of an S&W Model 500 but with a square design about it like a Desert Eagle save the cylinder.

Examining it revealed it was a top-break, likely for ease of loading the 5 ¼ inch projectiles in their slots. It had no hammer and examining the open gun for a firing mechanism left me perplexed, since the back where it met the cylinder just showed some sort of tube or emitter of some sort. I figured it was some alternate advanced propulsion system since examining the bottom of the grip revealed a slot for AA batteries. Seriously Leet? This thing runs on batteries?

After that, I took out the other new toy. It looked like a professionally made full-metal slingbow grip. Looking it over, it had another slot in the handle for batteries. Before I could curse Leet's name, I took out a pack of what looked vaguely like AA batteries, but were obviously, definitely, _not_ AA batteries. Nervously slotting the...glowing, yellow power cells into the slingbow grip's bottom, I pressed a small switch next to the cell port, and a solid string of light bridged the sling's center crook. He made a hardlight slingbow. How, the hell, does this work?

Curious now, I went to my supply area and grabbed a few steel quarrels. I held one of the metal balls to the string, and it suddenly latched onto it. I pulled it back, and the string followed. I felt no tension at all, how was this going to launch anything? Still, when I aimed at the far corner, and released with it drawn as far back as my head, I regretted it because the projectile fired so hard it was like a gunshot, and the little ball punched clean through the wall I was aiming at, making me wince and fumble to shut the slingbow off. Yep...lethal. Better keep it last resort.

I then took up the pistol, loaded cells, and then the cylinder with quarrels. I turned it on, which was basically the same as turning off the safety of a normal gun, and aimed at the same wall. It was less ridiculous than the slingbow in power, but it still shot with the strength of a weaker pistol. I was quite pleased with it. It's size would also psyche people out and make them think it much more powerful than it really was.

"Ammo press. Ammo press!" I eagerly declared as I moved to said press, which was honestly just the same kind of machine used to make mass-produced pill tablets or jawbreakers. I loaded one of the interchangeable hoppers with powdered Sick Spray, which I need a new name for, and turned it on. I bounced eagerly in anticipation, only to be interrupted by my phone ringing. "Yeah?"

"Look. Deal. I wanna apologize." Sherrel opened up, and I blinked in surprise. I'd honestly let that under the bridge already. "I shouldn't have benched you like I did. You have every right to fight with us, and I wanna extend you an opportunity to get your hands dirty." I perked up so hard my Balcoat strengthened quills ripped through the back of my shirt. "The Teeth are raising a ruckus on the Boardwalk, the Protectorate are getting their asses handed to them and the Butcher's too much of an overpowered bitch for us to take down without going too far and getting fucked over for it."

"So you need someone who's practically made for non-lethal takedowns." I felt my broad jaw stretch in a vicious smile. "I'm in. Let me grab some ammo and I'll join up with ya in a minute."

"Thanks Deal." Sherrel replied with an audible note of relief.

"Next time though, don't use my skill-set as a reason to bring me along." I sniped before hanging up, and quickly dumped some powdered Knockout into the hopper. Since I just cross-contaminated with Sick Spray (STILL need a new name for it) this batch of ammo would also cause victims to shit their pants.

I then stripped out of my clothes, and put on my Dealer persona, with added custom-made gloves by Parian that wouldn't tear from my claws. I then used the holsters I hadn't taken out of the box until now to put my slingbow on my left hip, and my oversized hand cannon on my right thigh. Once the ammo press was done, I pocketed my steel quarrels as normal, and strapped on my quiver of new arrows. I then filled tubes that worked like PEZ dispensers with the ammo, color-coded according to their contents, and put them in the same pocket as the bag of quarrels.

I then put my mask back on, and shuddered. This should be fun.


	48. Chapter 35

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Agitator 4.8**_

[Monday, November 29, 2010]

"Holy shit, they've gone too far." I hissed in simmering fury at seeing what had to be a fifth of the Boardwalk in flames. There were dead PRT troopers scattered around, as well as the local security toughs and police as well. There were also several dead civilians and Jeepers. The Teeth's bloodthirst was on full display right here. The fact they haven't been Caged or killed before now was disturbing. "How're the heroes doing again?" I asked of my pilot, considering everyone else had already scrambled while I was getting ready, I had to take the last Skiff out.

"Last our Peepers reported, Aegis and Kid Win were down. Dragon's lost her VTOL because of Butcher's damn minigun. Armsmaster is in critical condition and is being evacuated by Weld and Clockblocker. That means the white hats only have Assault, Militia, Triumph, Velocity-." A few explosions rang out below and frantic chatter came over the cockpit. "Fuck. Militia's down too. You better get down there if we're gonna keep them alive."

"Glad you have such faith in my work." I snarked good-naturedly as my adrenaline and endorphin levels spiked in anticipation of finally getting some action again. "Don't bother getting too close, just skim over a rooftop near Butcher and I'll deal with her first."

"Fuck you've got balls kid. Get ready then, we're going in hot." The man declared as he moved us in low, and I rushed to the side door facing the buildings. "Shit, Skids is down! Get out there kid!" At hearing my superior was in danger, I slammed the door open and jumped the 20 or so feet to the rooftops below. I instinctively used my sense of balance to shift in mid-air and hit the flat rooftop with a roll, kicking up gravel before I rolled to my feet and took out my slingbow which I flicked on..

"Now where are you…?" I mused to myself as I ran to the edge of the roof and looked down at the street to see a towering dark-haired woman in a busy patchwork mishmash of different armor designs from Japanese samurai to tribal headhunter, and even had blades just randomly hanging off of her. If that wasn't enough of a clue as to her identity, with her pallid skin and holding a minigun like it was a toy and cackling while Skidmark clutched the stump of his left arm, I knew I was looking at Butcher XIV. "Shit." I fished in my ammo pocket and grabbed a dispenser. Thankfully it was a green one, which meant Knockout. I pulled the PEZ dispenser triggerhead with it aimed at my activated slingbow, and it neatly deposited a green ball onto the hardlight string. "Please stay right where you are."

She was posturing if her slowly stalking towards Skids and her faint voice from the distance meant anything. Which was fine by me. I took aim, pulling the slingbow as far back as I had before. I've heard she has a Brute rating, so while this may be lethal to most people, I figure it'll be enough to at least penetrate that grey skin. I took a breath, and after I let it out, I fired. I may not have anticipated just how powerful this thing is, since some of the pellet flaked off in a trail of powder and the crack of it breaking the sound barrier was just as deafening as in the lab, but most of it survived the trip to puncture into Butcher's exposed neck in a spray of blood and green powder. She staggered, spun around at me with fury, only to suddenly eat shit.

Seeing such a feared and powerful supervillain literally drop like a marionette with its strings cut over her gun was an amazing experience. No way in hell could I do that in a fair fight, but fuck fighting fair. I jumped down, wary and looking around for the other Teeth before I ran for Skidmark and helped him up. For some reason, his arm was still bleeding, and seemed infected. "Holy shit...what did you do?" Skidmark warily asked me as he backed away from me.

"Butcher just got to test out my new bedtime medicine, Knockout." I grinned under my mask, before I jogged over to Butcher and kicked her onto her back, examination revealed that the wound I inflicted on her neck had already caked up with scabbing. Also, ew, she shat herself. Better replace this batch once I'm done here. "Does she have regeneration?"

"Uh...fuck. Maybe? I think so. It's about as good as ours at least. I mean. FUCK. How did you do that? Butcher can sense attacks coming. Sense emotions of people nearby. See fucking _veins_ through solid objects. How the fuck did you get the drop on her?" Skidmark demanded with frustration.

"No clue. She was busy with you, for one. I'm not exactly human anymore, so maybe my emotions don't register properly or something. And that pellet was literally fired with hypersonic force equivalent to a high-power sniper rifle, I doubt whatever precog she has can catch being blindsided from behind at range unless you're Bullshit." And the Butcher was bullshit enough as it was. I also read she can teleport explosively within a line of sight. Better take care of that.

"Huh. Well shit. Good work Deal-." Skidmark began, only for him to choke as I casually used my claws to gouge out the sleeping ex-beauty's eyes. "THE FUCK?! Why're you doing that?! She dies, you get fucked over!"

"Uh, you don't need eyes to live Skidmark. Especially not if she'll just grow them back. It's to make sure she can't teleport. Actually, she doesn't need arms or legs either." I flexed my toe claws, and prepared to cut off one of her arms by pressing the blade of my sickel-like large talon to her bicep, but Skidmark grabbed me and pulled me off. "Hey! The less agency she has, the easier it'll be for the heroes to figure out how to deal with-." Skidmark punched me with his remaining arm, the power in it was lacking, but enough to painfully jar my jaw.

"We're not like them!" Skidmark shouted in my face, spittle flying from his lips as I flinched at the fury in his face and voice. "We're not some fucking shit-eating little clit-lickers like these godless bastards! I see you pull shit like that again and I will fucking END you!" Skidmark roared, and I felt suitably chastened. "Tie her up or some shit, we've gotta help the others with Animos, Vex, and Hemorragia."

"What about Reaver?" I asked as I rolled Butcher back over and used some thick reinforced zip-ties on her wrists and ankles, and then used another to hogtie her limbs behind her back, leaving her curled up. I hope my Knockout lasts long enough for the heroes to haul her off, I didn't like the idea of bringing this psycho back to Haven. Spree was bad enough.

"Dumb fuck got offed by a fresh trigger or something earlier. Doesn't matter, one less asshole to bring down. By now at least the normal goons are all either dead or caught." Skidmark informed me as he awkwardly reached his right arm up to his left ear. "Skidmark here. I'm down an arm, but Dealer put Butcher to sleep. Relay our current location to the heroes so they can come pick the psycho bitch up."

"Speaking of which, you're dealing with losing an arm really well." I commented as we started jogging down the way towards the sounds of ongoing fighting. The anticipation for which had me decide to turn my slingbow off and swap it for my revolver. "Also, where are the others? Why were you facing Butcher alone?"

"It'll grow back. Even if not, Leet could just make me a new one. Besides, Squeal's got a bit of a domination fetish, so it'll make things even more interesting in bed for a bit." TMI Adam. TMI. "As for where they are, Squeal's helping box in the rest of the Teeth's unpowered goons with Trainwreck and Mush since Animos would fuck them over too hard. So we're letting your minions face them directly."

"Did not need to know that." I replied in regards to the first part of his answer. "But you still haven't told me why you were facing the fucking _Butcher_ alone."

"Let's just say that cunt and I have history. I knew she'd come after me, so I pulled her away from the others." As I was processing how selfless Skidmark's action was, just before we rounded a corner that led just off the Boardwalk, we had to dodge back the way we came as a red convertible flew upside-down through the air where we'd just been, smashing off the corner of the old colonial-style facade of the building we'd been rounding.

"I swear, if that's Bebop or Rocksteady, I'm going to have them cleaning the toilets for a week." Skidmark just grunted in irritation as we warily poked our heads around the now recessed corner of the building to see the vicious melee that was Bebop and Rock duking it out with Animos, who was strong enough in his massive hulking gorilla-like reptilian form to handily take what they dealt, and then hammer right back. Rock's horn was broken, as was one of Bebop's tusks. They were visibly covered in lacerations, missing patches of fur and hide respectively, and were also exhausted. They had help from Assault, but even he could barely take any pressure off my lieutenants, as each hit he took tossed him several feet, even if they did little to him. But every time Animos emitted a horrific screech, he was disabled for several seconds.

"I've got Vex over there." Skidmark declared, and I followed his line of sight to see that several Jeepers were struggling with surviving Vex and Hemorragia's vicious assault, and it seemed only Tie-Dye was keeping his boys from getting sliced to ribbons like a few of the poor guys painting the road red and giving Hemorragia more ammo.

"I've got Animos then. My boys need a break." I opened my revolver, and loaded more Knockout pellets. Hopefully whatever biology Animos' changer state had was close enough to mammalian for him to be susceptible to it. With our targets chosen, we both broke into a sprint towards the enemy.

Animos did another screeching howl as I approached, which just annoyed me rather than debilitate me, even if it made my ears ring and my head hurt. Too bad for him headaches are something I'm used to. I continued sprinting at him, and without any warning beyond him seeing me coming, I jumped several feet in the air and went for a flying double-kick like I'd done against Hookwolf. Only this time, I was maybe a hundred pounds of saurian flesh heavier, and with leading sickle-claws, I gouged deep into the massive arm he raised in defense.

Using my momentum and my new foothold, I continued forward by curling my body up and forward, and shot him in the face nearly point-blank with my revolver. This caused a small explosion of green powder that the vicious changer inhaled from a pained gasp, and I jumped back off with a roll to my feet as he promptly collapsed forwards, shrinking down to his now practically naked caucasian self. Also he shat himself. I might just keep this Sick contaminated formula for the shiggles. "Sleep well." I felt so good right now. Two for five already. Well, three with Reaver dead, that leaves two.

"Holy shit kid. You're ruthless." Assault commented, but his approving tone of voice said he appreciated my tactics. "Ew, could've done without the brown though. Go on, I'll get this guy bagged." Assault gestured towards the rest of the fight, which seemed to be a frantic running battle with Hemorragia and Vex attempting to retreat. Unfortunately for them, Skidmark was on them, and they wouldn't be going anywhere with that line of transparent blue/violet force fields covering anywhere but towards us. "Fuck. You guys are the real heroes at this rate."

"You sound like that's a bad thing." Bebop snorted before he staggered and Rocksteady held him up. Honestly, they were holding each other up by now. My lieutenants definitely weren't up for another round right now.

"It is. For the most part, we've failed. We're not the heroes now. The city sees us as the villains, holding you guys back." Assault morosely shook his head as he cuffed Animos. "Armsy and Militia don't want to see it, but I do. Even Mouse does. Things have changed." Assault sadly stated, before he looked over to the side of the road, and I followed his sight to see Militia, down a leg and feebly trying to console Mouse Protector as the rodent-themed heroine desperately applied pressure to the wound trying to keep her friend from bleeding out. "Prove me right."

I immediately ran towards them, not caring for Assault's rhetoric, fishing in my coat for the small medkit I had packed. Mouse tensed as I approached, but I ignored it as I knelt down and opened the small stainless steel case in my hands to pull out a syringe of Stim. "This is Stim. It'll give you a permanent regeneration that improves over time." I informed them before I promptly ignored propriety and injected it into Militia's weak body via the side of her intact thigh.

"The fuck are you-?!" I interrupted Mouse by throwing bandages at her, and using a spray antibiotic on Militia's cleanly severed thigh. I could afford to be reckless now that she has Stim in her. The military-themed heroine seemed shocked, but was already less pale than before as her breathing strengthened.

"It's not necessary now that she has regeneration, but it'll take a while to fully kick in. Bandage her up and get her to safety." I ordered of Mouse Protector, and paused, before taking out a blank hanky. "Sign this please." I requested, before I got up and put my medkit away in my coat, preparing my revolver by loading another Knockout pellet. "We'll finish the Teeth here. Be ready to lock them up and throw away the key."

I walked away, and my quills flared at hearing Mouse mutter 'God he's hot' so I couldn't help the sinuous undulation of my tail at being complimented by my favorite hero. However, now wasn't the time to be fanning my ego. I cracked my neck as I approached the desperate duo of Vex and Hemo, who were completely unable to bypass a very pissed-off Skidmark's skill at using his power to deny movement. By now, he had them both trapped in triangular barrier cages with them screaming incoherently in impotent fury. "I see you're improving." I commented to my nominal superior, who snorted and spat a loogie at Hemo, said saliva-based projectile striking her in the face with enough force for her to yelp in pain and hold her face.

"Still not enough. If I wasn't limited to line-of-sight I wouldn't take so damn long." Skidmark looked contemplative as he dispassionately considered his prisoners, who were both starting to resign themselves. Because even though Hemo and Vex both had powers that worked at range, they couldn't do more than annoy us right now. "So...we did it. We finally fucking put down the Teeth." Skidmark seemed incredibly relieved if his content sigh meant anything. "The original reason we formed Deal. Was to put down the Teeth, and provide a service to this city."

"Kinda ended up doing that in reverse." I snarked, and Skidmark cackled happily as Assault, the only able-bodied Protectorate hero available, approached with a sardonic smirk on his visible lower face.

"Well now. I can't speak for the rest of my group, but I'm glad you guys are on our side. At least, in the broad term." Assault then looked at me with a powerful sneer. "However, I owe you a powerful deck to the snoz for hurting our Wards so many times. Don't take this personally." I had absolutely no time to brace for the incredible haymaker the Breaker hit me with, or the disorienting flight down the street, through a few wreckages of cars, and through the already shattered facade of Parian's former shop.

"...Ow…." I whimpered, feebly twitching as I felt numerous bones had broken, even more had fractured. I think a rib was puncturing a lung if the wet feeling in my chest meant anything. "*cough*" Yep. Blood in my mouth now. Ugh...where was he hiding that? Why didn't he ever hit Lung with something so bullshit like that? I'll probably need a new mask again.

"Wow! I knew Ass didn't like you for some reason, but dayum he got you good." Mouse Protector commented as she casually traversed the ruins of Parian's Dollhouse towards me. "You gonna be okay?"

"*hack* Y-yeah…." Thank Scion or whoever that my Stim was so strong by this point I'd be up in several minutes rather than hours from all this. "So. Where. Are. The. Others?" I haltingly chopped out, trying not to breathe too deeply so my punctured lung would heal quicker.

"Well, Halbeard lost an arm and a leg, he was taken by Weld and Clock to Pan. Aegis is...well, hopefully still alive, but he was little more than a chest with a head last I saw. Kid might have a concussion, or be in a coma. Vista was on console today, thank god. Flechette is across the city with Velocity, responding to another incident that sprang up almost at the same time. Dauntless and Triumph are with them too. We figured you guys would show up here, so we could stand to split our forces." Mouse informed me as if she didn't care about hiding anything, and she squatted near my head as she looked at my masked face closely. "Glad you showed up."

"You're the. Second hero. To say. That today." I rasped out, feeling well enough to at least move my head, and I had little doubt she had picked her pose and position just so I'd have a scenic view of her inner thighs and bikini area. Armored or not, that pose was far too intentional. "I'm fifteen."

"You're still hot." Mouse smirked devilishly at me with her freshly lipsticked grey lips before she held up the plain white hanky I asked her to sign, revealing she'd signed it, kissed it a few times with her smoky grey lipstick, and even wrote down a phone number. "I'm not as uptight as my friends. Call me~." Mouse lilted before dropping the autographed square of cloth on my masked snout, which I swear I was gonna frame ASAP, and left me be in my bed of rubble.

"Boss!" I heard Rocksteady call. Listening closer now that they had my attention, I could hear him and a huffing Bebop staggering into the destroyed tailor shop. "Boss, you okay?!"

"I will be. Still got a. Few broken bones." Ah, shit. Where's my pistol. "Did you see. A huge gun?"

"Uh, no? We'll go look for it, but you flew like a couple of blocks. That thing could be anywhere." Rock offered, and I groaned. I only JUST got that thing, and now I've likely lost it already?

"Whatever. I'll just buy another one off of Leet." Oh. Hey. Lungs are done. "Ugh, we're really fucked up aren't we? Damage report?" Was that something a leader asks after a battle? I think it is.

"Over a dozen of the crew have died. Mostly the adrenaline junky idiots in the Jeepers that were too stupid to listen or use tactics. Squealer's lost her monster truck since some of the Teeth somehow had explosives. But we got off lightly. A bunch of PRT troopers are dead, cops who were providing support too, pretty much all the rent-a-cop toughs that ran the Boardwalk are either dead or gone, a few civilians too. The Teeth must've decided to make this their biggest killing spree yet." Rocksteady snarled in disgust, and I sighed in lament that I hadn't been prepared earlier to put Butcher and Animos down. Then again, in both cases, I had the element of surprise, and they were preoccupied.

I grunted as I got up, and weakly checked my range of movement. "Fuck. Well, at least none of our capes died, and at least none of the heroes died."

"I wish you were right." I looked from my lieutenants who were now healed enough to stand without supporting each other, to the one-legged Miss Militia who was being supported by Mouse Protector. "I just got the report in, and since your group is intact compared to ours, I figured I would give you fair warning."

"Who died?" Bebop asked, and got whacked over the head by Rock for his insensitivity.

"Velocity. Robin. He died in the initial clash with another group of criminals that have decided to rear their ugly heads." Mouse Protector stated with disgust in her voice.

"Who killed him? What group of jackasses have decided to keep the misery going in our city?" I demanded, looking Militia in the eye, and even removing my mask so she knew I was doing so. "We got rid of the ABB, the Empire's almost gone, and we were going to move on to cleaning streets and buildings or something. Who's delaying us fixing this city?"

"It's two groups actually. The one that killed Robin was one I hoped would never even look in Brockton Bay's direction, let alone come here." Militia stared back into my eyes unflinchingly. "MS13 and the Bloods have come." I felt my breath hitch.

The local gangs were one thing, but they were Local. The Teeth were a beast all their own, but they were just a band of murder hobos. The Mara Salvatruchas and the Bloods are both international crime organizations, both with an agenda of escalating violence and brutality, stretching across the USA, down into Mexico as far as Brazil in some cases, and even up into Canada. Our megere numbers were nothing in the face of _two_ well-established ultra-violent gangs with vast support networks. We're not ready for this, we didn't see this coming.

"Fuck."


	49. Interlude 4d

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Armsmaster**_

[Wednesday, December 1, 2010]

Colin Wallace has been quite busy the past couple of days. He trusted his team and the PRT had the Teeth well in hand and shipped off to the Birdcage like they had with Lung and Lee, so he went straight to work tinkering once he was able. He was currently bent over perhaps the most expensive microscope in the city doing delicate precision work on his latest project. In fact, it was so precise, it had to be measured in picometres. It also required intense focus and-.

"COLIN!" Colin Wallace snapped out of his intense fugue at Tess's voice combined with her shaking his shoulder. He blinked, wondering what he was looking at through his high intensity microscope for a moment. "Colin, it's been almost _two days_! Do you even have any idea what you've been working on?!" The nearly human-sized suit of Dragon armor demanded of him.

"..." Colin couldn't speak, his throat was dry. How long had it been since he'd had a drink? Before he could move to get himself some coffee, Tess held up a thermos, and he wordlessly accepted it to down the contents, which he about spat back up at tasting a meal replacement shake instead of the coffee he'd expected. Still unable to speak, he leered at his friend reproachfully, to which she gestured he continue drinking. The traitor.

"Colin, what caused you to lock yourself in here for nearly two days since Panacea reattached your's and Hannah's limbs? I've been so busy supporting the Merchants to keep the MS13 and the Bloods from hurting the DWU that I haven't been here to keep you in check." Tess chided him like a mother hen, to which Colin huffed and mentally agreed with the comparison. Shame she'd never have children with her body so frail she had to live out of her lab. She'd be a good mother according to the behavioral analysis books he's read.

"Ahem...achieving the pinnacle of miniaturized efficiency." Colin answered with all seriousness, turning back to the seemingly empty workspace he was at that had microscopes and various extremely small precision tools he may or may not have cannibalized from other, less ambitious projects. "When I got a blood sample from Hannah and examined it to compare differences between her new Biotinker-altered state and her original one, my power practically hammered on my attention span that I had the opportunity to learn from Dealer's genius."

"...Colin. What have you done." Tess demanded severely, and Colin grunted wordlessly as he gestured to the microscope array he'd been working with. She complied and took a look before sighing and visibly slumping a bit. Colin was always intrigued at how and why Tess worked such unnecessary details into her humanoid suits. "Nanites. You're making nanites. Colin…."

"They have limited self-replication, but only enough to do so on command and when given appropriate materials to do so. Watching the Stim bacterial colony in Hannah's blood work together to keep it stable outside of her body led to me being inspired to try my hand at what most would consider the ultimate in miniaturization." Colin moved to get back to work, but Tess put a hand on his shoulder to keep him away from it.

"The government has regulations on this for a reason Colin! You can't seriously expect anyone, let alone Director Piggot to even consider letting you field these!" Tess fretted, and Colin had to scoff at her concern, even if it was appreciated.

"Field them? Tess, I don't even have the initial prototype running in a controlled environment yet. What makes you think I would even use them outside of the lab? At least for now." He first planned to use them in his tinkering, as advanced tools to make his creations as compact and efficient as possible. "I'll take them out once I can verify they can perform surgery without error."

"Colin! You can't be serious!" Tess's pleading was starting to get on his nerves, and he didn't appreciate her adding her other hand to his other shoulder.

"We're losing Tess!" Colin declared loudly and he ducked under her proxy's mechanical strength to stand back a bit. "We're losing the war! The Merchants are the Heroes in the eyes of the people now, and we're just a nuisance. Petty Rogues, or even Villains in comparison. I can't possibly go out there in my current state, the same as always. I need an ace up my sleeve, one that can't just be dodged or ignored, one that can put me on even ground with the _monsters_ that compose the Maras and the Bloods. Monsters not even Chevalier and Myrddin can suppress."

"I agree." Colin's impassioned rant was interrupted by an unexpected visitor. Director Piggot fully entered his lab, leaning heavily on her cane. The stress was getting to her and agitating her condition. Colin had time and again of late petitioned her to get healed by Panacea, but she'd staunchly refused as usual. Now though, Colin was more curious about her timely presence.

"Director?" Had she known already? He knew she spied on them, but he wasn't aware she had eyes into his lab, a place he scoured for bugs on a weekly basis.

"These are desperate times. Our city has become an even bigger cesspit of scum and villainy despite both ours, and the Merchants' best efforts. They won't go haywire?" Piggot demanded as she moved to his workstation to look in the microscope.

"Unless I'm up against another Tinker who has signal hijacking as a specialization, beyond unlikely. At best they'll just revert to inactivity without continued command prompts from my system every few seconds." It may have been tedious and clunky, but at least with such a restricted system in place, the tiny robots couldn't do anything if he just had his system stop sending prompts.

"That's a relief. But what use did you have in mind for them?" Piggot's question was easy.

"Initially, as tools to aid in my tinkering. Later, I planned to use them for field surgery and first aid, or unleash them on a crowd, have them target weapons, then break them down. The Maras and Bloods may have Capes, but it's their rank-and-file we have to be worried about spreading carnage too far." Both organizations existed before parahumans did, and thus already had a system in place before capes. His studies revealed that in spite of the capes, both organizations still operated more-or-less the same, and just treated their capes as notable toughs in the gang.

Colin was thankful that at least the Mafia hadn't given up on their rigid ethics, or else the country would've already been run by one of the Families.

"That is acceptable, so long as they pass muster on pig corpses and later cadavers. It's good to see that you haven't been shirking your duties like I'd suspected. Even if you are required some downtime after such a grievous injury, healed or not." Piggot appraised as she left his workstation. "Take a break however. You've been working nonstop and I order you to get some sleep." Piggot glared, as if daring Colin to defy her, and he sighed in defeat at the assault of two women on his personal time.

"Very well. Once I finish this liquid meal I'll go crawl into my cot." Colin acquiesced, and with that, Piggot nodded in confirmation, then left. "That woman is too damn stubborn for her own good."

"Indeed. She's had the resources to be back in her prime on hand since being stationed here. Now with multiple ways to achieve such an end and her still refusing, I'm beginning to think the director may have serious issues." Tess commented with concern. "I might even petition she be _ordered_ from on high to get medical attention at this rate."

"Her ability to do her job has been diminishing greatly these past couple of months." Colin groused before he chugged the thermos down. "Hm, not a fan of chocolate. Regardless, I'll gladly sign off on such a petition. Director Piggot needs help."

"Thank you. I'll draft up a request immediately. You, however, have some sleep to catch up on." Tess insisted, and Colin sighed in defeat before he turned towards his lab's fold-out wall cot. It wasn't as comfortable as his personal quarters, but time was of the essence and the sooner he could get his new armor and weapons ready with the help of the nanites, the better.

[Pick Your Poison]

After Colin got several hours of sleep, it was evening, and he was told he had to attend a team meeting to discuss their next course of action and also take stock of the situation now that they and the Think Tank have gathered what they could from the past three days since their city was so brutally assaulted by the Teeth, and then invaded by two even worse organizations.

"Of all the Villains to come here, why did MS13 decide to send some of their worst?" Ethan bemoaned, to which Colin grunted in wordless agreement. "I mean, Cadejo was bad enough, but Coco and Silbón too? Those three each have confirmed kill counts in nearly the triple digits." Ethan groaned while running his hands down his face. Here in this secure meeting room on the PHQ, they felt safe enough to be without their masks. It took Colin doing a thermal scan for any invisible people to gain such a level of reassurance, but they didn't want to hide behind masks for these meetings. It was how they did things when Robin was with them, after all.

"Not to mention Cipito, Siguanaba, and Chupacabra." Colin scowled. The MS13 came prepared for war. Those six were their most devastating capes in the country. Four of them also have Protectorate blood on their hands. Cadejo still has a standing Kill Order from him killing the Ward; Deputy, in Austin. An event that haunts Eidolon to this day, but his power making him nigh-invincible has lent him a similar reputation of fear that Lung held, especially since he brutally kills, _and eats_ , nearly everyone that goes after him, Eidolon being one of the few exceptions. "Remember, Coco only got her hands on Robin thanks to Cipito and Siguanaba's combined mind-altering effects."

"But Lily was compromised even at range because she told nobody she was gay, and she was enthralled by Siguanaba despite her lessened effect at longer ranges. Because of this she couldn't make the shot to save Robin and she hasn't come out of her room since then." Hannah reminded sternly. She left out the fact that Lily also had to watch the baggy rag-covered monster named Coco dismember Robin with pure strength and start _eating_ before Triumph and Dauntless pulled her away. Thankfully they hadn't been close enough for Cipito to affect them, but hadn't looked directly at Siguanaba like she had, or they would've possibly lost four good heroes that day rather than one.

"Which also means nobody here besides maybe Halbeard or Dragon can even face Siguanaba directly." Katherine huffed as she toyed with the movable ears on her helmet she had on the table in front of her. "I'm Bi, so there's no chance I could resist her. I've corrupted Hannah so she can't either-." "HEY!" "-Then there's the fact the rest of you are all men." Katherine continued, ignoring Hannah's exclamation along with her flushed and embarrassed expression.

"And I'm not?" Colin glared at the unprofessional and grating presence that was the other non-Protectorate volunteer of his team. Her obvious approval of the Merchants on top of her casual demeanor and disregard for authority didn't give her any positive points in his book. Ethan may be in the same camp as her, but he at least understood that when Vigilantes go unchecked, they tend to become worse than the evils they fight.

"To be fair Colin, she has a point. You have no libido to speak of and have such tunnel vision she might not even be able to affect you." Colin snapped his glare to Ian. "I mean that in a good way for the situation Colin. We may not be defenseless against her in your case." Colin growled quietly, unable to hide his disdain for the way his work rival described his dedication to his work. He appreciated the female form as much as any man, but his work came before any physical distraction.

"Don't be so hard on Colin for being so occupied with his tinkering Ian." Rory chided his older teammate. "After he lost his limbs he would've had to rebuild his armor from the ground up anyway, there's no chance he could've just gone back out on the field with us." Colin simmered, more in frustration than indignation at the truth of it and why Dauntless, Ian, was so standoffish.

"*sigh* You're right. Sorry Colin, that was out of line. It's been hell out there." Ian grumbled as he pinched the bridge of his nose, his unkempt helmet-hair falling around his face. Lazy Trump, didn't even bother with proper personal care. "As if the MS13 wasn't bad enough, the Bloods haven't even brought their capes in yet and have already claimed a good portion of the southern part of the city."

"Which brings to question; why are the Maras so interested in the Slums and Docks of North Brockton, while the Bloods have spread like a web over South Brockton's more upscale communities?" Tess brought up, helping organize the topics and thoughts on the meeting at the whiteboard. At least she was being helpful unlike Katherine or Ian.

"I have a theory. We've all been brought up on the history of the Merchants since they started escalating?" Colin asked, hoping he wouldn't have to recap, but unfortunately, Katherine and Rory shook their heads in the negative. At least Rory had the decency to look abashed at having shirked his research. Knowing is half the battle after all.

"I'll be brief. The Merchants were started by a teenaged Skidmark and Squealer out of the neighborhood of Archer's Bridge in the Docks. It was originally in self-defense against the Teeth, who were originally from here. However, after they helped the other gangs and Protectorate at the time force the Teeth out of the city, they turned to crime as was expected, with an unexpected focus on drugs above all else. Their source wasn't local, at least at first, meaning they had a supplier from outside. Between the Maras and the Bloods, which is more focused on illegal drug distribution?"

Colin's rhetorical question had everyone at the table come to the conclusion of his theory if their faces meant anything. "As you may have guessed, I'm theorizing the Maras were their original suppliers, who after a time decided to cut ties when the E88 and ABB formed, possibly figuring two different racial supremacist gangs would kill any effort to expand here."

"Which is no longer the case with the Merchants suddenly rising out of the gutters and ripping their throats out." Ethan grimaced. "They likely see the Merchants taking over as a betrayal of sorts. They were probably betting on using the Merchants as a foothold and then throwing them away once they were established here. Now their pawns have become kings, and they're pissed."

"Exactly. Which is why they're so hell-bent on taking North Brockton when it's nominally run by the Merchants. Why they've sent their six most dangerous capes. Why they're already escalating beyond normal reason." The Maras had already killed several Merchants. Cadejo himself had slaughtered seven in the past few days, but thankfully for the Merchants, their new more intelligent operations have prevented further death tolls. They may be Villains, but they don't deserve to die.

"Considering the situation. Maybe siding with the Merchants would be for the best." Katherine offered, and though it grated on him to admit it, Colin felt the same way.

"Yes. They may be villains, but they at least haven't been harming civilians since their reformation. The Maras have already assaulted dozens of civilians, stolen thousands of dollars of property and money, and the number of murders have climbed back up. In comparison, the Merchants have only been running security." Not protection rackets either, actual security. Boots on the ground have reported they keep unseen patrols in their client's areas, but don't threaten or harm people who've refused to pay. Some of those people have even decided to purchase services after the fact since they were so professional from what reports said.

"Isn't that illegal?" Rory asked in surprise.

"No. They may be a criminal organization from their past actions, but being a member of a criminal organization doesn't make you a criminal by default. Think of them as the local Yakuza." So long as the Merchants didn't do anything illegal, such as possessing a gun without a permit, or anything criminal for that matter, they were actually allowed to operate so long as people without known criminal actions weren't in the open. Besides, unofficial Truces like this happened all the time in serious situations as this. Colin may not like it, but he would play ball if it meant protecting his city.

"Finally! Let's drop them a line and try to communicate or something. I gave Dealer my number, so hopefully he'll give me a call if we send them a message somehow." Katherine cheered as she stood up and put her helmet back on.

"You gave an underage minor your number why?" Colin demanded heatedly, to which Katherine scoffed.

"What? I can't give an admiring fan my phone number? What if he wants to hang out? Besides, it works out doesn't it? C'mon Dragon, let's go put up a white flag at the Docks, or however you guys make truces here in New England." Katherine practically skipped out of the meeting room, and Colin sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"We haven't even gone over patrol routes yet." Colin groused as he tried to valiantly fight off another headache, courtesy of the resident rodent-themed heroine.

"Might as well put that on hold, let's see if we can't get in contact with the Merchants first. Besides, you still have work to do in your lab." Tess soothed, and Colin nodded in agreement. If they were going to be working with the Merchants, at least for the time being, it would be best if they could work their patrols around each other.

"Yes, indeed. Dismissed everyone, we're on standby for the evening until Dragon and Mouse Protector, as a third party, can make contact with the Merchants." Colin put his helmet back on and walked back to his lab. Once everything was sealed back up, he sighed and undid the clasps of his make-do suit of armor and laid them out on another table, before he went to his nanite station and went straight back to work.

After just a few minutes, his first nanite was finished. But, rather than slave away at a second nanite, he placed a small ingot of various metals, slag, drippings from other projects, all sorts of misc elements on the slide, and picked up his tablet. "Okay then. First test of self-replication." After fiddling with the system commands that would transmit to the nanite, he put his eyes to the microscope and pressed the activate command. Colin watched in fascination as the nanite, in a blinding speed, moved to the pinky-sized ingot of metal and tore into it like it was made of soft cheese.

Within minutes, the nanite had successfully made dozens of copies of itself, but none of them were joining it in making more. "The limiter is working properly then." This was good. He could selectively pick out how many nanites to dedicate to a task. With that confirmed, he set it so all of them were dedicated to the same task, and within another minute, the swarm had completely used up the ingot to make more of themselves. He left the same command running, but since there were no suitable materials within the very limited range for them to utilize, they simply went into standby.

"Perfect." Colin felt a smile grow on his usually taciturn face, and then picked up the slide after he ordered them into proper standby. He moved the roughly marble-sized mound of nanites into a large biohazard containment cell, labeled as 'immutable' to the nanites, and then proceeded dump his old suit of armor in, as well as one of his spare halberds. "Now, if this works right…." Colin mumbled as he loaded a whole series of schematics and blueprints he'd put together with help from Dragon, and set the nanites to work. "I'll have my new suit of armor and halberd come morning. Even less downtime thanks to this. Optimal."

Colin was quite pleased with himself. He could be a hero much more efficiently now, and it was ironically thanks to the good graces of a Villain too. Speaking of which…. Colin went to his computer and checked on the progress his team was getting towards being allowed to utilize the Surge they'd confiscated from Winslow, and he hummed in approval at seeing they were given the all clear to start enhancing themselves. Signed by Chief Director Costa-Brown too.

"Colin. Mouse Protector and I have made contact with a Peeper from the Merchants. She's relayed things back and forth, and even gotten Squealer on the phone for us. They're more than willing to work with us." Tess stated as her digital avatar appeared on his computer screen.

"This is good. Hopefully we'll be able to get swift justice for Robin, and even start stabilizing the city once the Maras and the Bloods are dealt with." Colin opened up the city map, and began plotting out routes. "Just help me set up patrols for now."

"Certainly. But where did this sudden confidence come from?" Tess asked, to which he gave her one of his rare smiles.

"Let's just say that I'm feeling like defying the odds for once." Colin answered as he idly pulled up his private design for his Nanothorn technology.


	50. Chapter 36

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Agitator 4.9**_

[Saturday, December 4, 2010]

To say I was surprised the Protectorate was finally willing to play ball and work with us would be an understatement. I guess it took a rising death toll on the tail of the Teeth's already massive killing spree for them to reach out to us. I just wish it didn't take so much for the damn government to actually help people.

We arranged a patrol and response plan with the heroes, and today I was patrolling in the afternoon with Whirlygig and Mouse Protector. I squeed when I found out I was going to get to hang out with my favorite hero. A fact that Pantera and Taylor teased me about relentlessly. I in turn told her she'd totally squee if she was invited to patrol with Alexandria, to which Pantera then turned on her, all while Rachel didn't even care and just wanted quiet.

As for the girls, they were all going to patrol with Assault, who I figured was likely paired up with them since he would be the most likely to convince Taylor to join the heroes once they learned we had Taylor's number, but she wasn't one of us, just a friend we want to look out for. The rest of our capes were going to be similarly teamed up with the heroes to patrol, and the crew would be supplementing PRT patrols. The sooner the Maras are dead or caged, the sooner we can move on to the Bloods, and then start rebuilding the city.

Of course, I should've figured our first joint patrol would go to hell in a handbasket.

I grunted in pain as I was rapidly struck by the inhumanly fast 4-foot-nothing Chupacabra. Damn this girl's fast! It's a good thing I'm so durable from my costume and Balcoat-treated scales or I'd be bleeding to death from her claws and blood-sucking fangs.

I tried to slash her with my own, less-pronounced claws, but the wiry little fluffy thing just danced back with a keening little laugh, her triple-fanged maw stretched into a vicious smile of glee as her huge solid-black glassy eyes seemed to shine. She was also naked. Thankfully all the fur helped her modesty, but why she was naked was beyond me.

I'm just lucky I caught her while she's alone. But I also had the misfortune of being alone, since Mouse Protector and Whirlygig were trying to deal with Cipito about a street over. Of course I had to be the one fighting the vampiric murderer while they got the trickster.

"Y'know. If this is all you've got, you might as well surrender." I snarled, trying to project as much danger as possible. I can't possibly take out my slingbow or replacement revolver with this speedy bitch able to just dodge near anything. I've seen videos of her dodging hails of bullets. Some sort of directional precog combined with her lightning reflexes, so no shooting her.

"Oh please! We both know we're at a stalemate! I can't go big without you putting me to sleep, and you can't hit me while I'm tiny! I'm not about to stop when I have someone so fun to fight!" Chupacabra declared with manic joy, and I sighed as I decided to do something drastic.

"Alright. I warned you." I quickly reached into my coat and tabbed open a fogger of Knockout as she bum-rushed me. She was asleep and reverting back to an average-height hispanic teen around my age within a second of hitting the expanding green-tinted cloud. "Silly girl. Never expect a Tinker only has one trick up their sleeve." I tabbed the fogger closed, a feature I wasn't aware of until Leet told me, and I pocketed the fogger to rummage for some zip...what am I doing?

I looked around, confused, I feel like I'm forgetting something. Why was I here? "Ugh, I told her we should've stayed together, but no~ she had to get hands-on with the only guy. Again. Fucking perv." I blinked and looked at a small hispanic boy, around 10 or 11 wearing a comfortable-looking tan coat and a pointy broad-brimmed tan hat. Heh, he looked like a wizard, kinda. "And now I have to drag her fat ass back to Siguanaba so she can punish her."

"Hey kid. What're you doing here?" I asked as he knelt down and...ow, my eyes, for some reason, seeing the kid pick up the girl hurt to look at too closely. Especially since she was floating a couple of feet above where he was holding his hands out.

"Just picking up my friend. Sorry she was so much trouble mister. I'll have momma give her a good talking to." The child beamed up at me, and I chuckled as I waved him off.

"You do that, be careful now. It's dangerous out here." I waved him goodbye as he walked off with the naked girl. Why was she naked? Hm, I can't remember-SHIT! "Fuck! I just got screwed over by Cipito! Damn it!" Now that he was gone and I was out of his range, the order of events fell into place, and I felt like such a tool for falling for his power so easily. No damn wonder Cipito is considered a Stranger 7, Master 1, and Mover 2 with his ability to also teleport when there weren't eyes on him. "Great." I pressed on my mask-mounted comm. "Dealer here. I had Chupacabra, but Cipito bamboozled me and took her."

"Damn. Well at least your patrol is alright. Mouse and Whirly reported in a moment ago saying Cipito gave them the slip, guess we know where he went." Tattletale answered. Since she was the only Thinker we had, and she was indeed part of our group if still in the Undersiders, she was the one helping run things. "Well fluffy, go link up with them and keep on your patrol. Hope you don't run across the worse half of the Maras."

"If those two are part of the better half, then I'm definitely going to stay away from the others if I can." I took out my phone after I hung up on Tats, and unlike the Peepers, she wasn't a stickler for radio protocol. I texted Mouse, and using her directions, sprinted to join back up with her and Whirly. "Hey. I had Chupacabra, what happened with Cipito?"

"He's a slippery little shit is what. Even with my power up to start, I was so turned around once he got close that I powered down and treated him like some random little kid I was bemused about." Whirly had abused our resources quite well. She used to be a scrawny, tiny slip of a thing so skinny she could fit through a tennis racket. Now she was just over 6 feet and built like a 'brick house' according to her own words. She wore a costume of biker leathers with a helmet and had a messenger bag of gravel for her to use with her power.

"Same. I couldn't tag him because the little miscreant had me thinking he was just some kid too. That power of his is so broken." Mouse whined with a pouting lip under her mouse-themed helmet visor. "Oh well. He and Chupacabra don't have much on their heads anyway. Chupa's only killed a few people and Cipito's the only one without any confirmed kills, so they're far from the worst. They're just really hard to nail down."

"Yeah. Chupacabra wasn't giving me any chances, so I had to trick her into knocking herself out. Can't do that next time, so now I've gotta figure out how to pull it off if she comes after me again." I bemoaned, sighing. "Well, let's get back on the route. Where were we?"

"You two were discussing prices on her buying stuff from you while I kept an eye out." Whirly snarked and cocked a hip to rest her hand on it. "Might as well keep doing what we were doing. I'll lead, you two dorks keep chatting." Whirlygig snorted and moved to lead us onward at our moderate jog. Something I was impressed Mouse could keep up with without our modifications. Said modifications she was asking about too.

"Alright then. So Mouse, why do you want to actually be a mouse-woman again?" I questioned of my favorite hero, who even did a cartwheel as we jogged.

"Because then I would truly be the protector of mice! What better way to own up to a gimmick than to live it?!" Mouse gushed with excitement, and I had to appreciate how well-made her armor was, with it being full-coverage it still had full range of movement without snags. If I remember right, I think it was made for her by Chevalier, but that's not important.

"Isn't that a bit much though? I mean, you do so well for yourself already, how else would becoming a mouse benefit you?" Because really. Aside from New Wave, she was the most successful independent hero in the country, having the longest service record alongside Brandish and Lady Photon. She even still had a toy line and other merchandise with a deal she cut with a few companies who approached her due to her popularity. Also, I don't see how being a mouse would help her heroics. She's done so well so far, and mice didn't have many perks.

"Well, I get cute big ears. Cute whiskers. A tail to help me balance. Oh, and even when the Surge makes me all big and stacked, I'll be even more flexible than I am now! Not to mention I would have even faster regeneration for my hands and feet than if I just had Stim." She had a point, at least for the tail for balance and flexibility, but regeneration buffs?

"How's that?" Seriously, how? I didn't notice anything special about my test rats before I modded them, but then again, I didn't do much with them before I went mod-happy on them.

"Mice and rats can completely regrow a lost paw when they're young, but can still regrow small appendages like toes as an adult." Mouse informed me in an obnoxious lecturing tone.

"Really now? I hadn't known. That would explain why the test rats I had were so daring with their paws." You'd think after getting zapped enough times trying to grab a piece of candy corn through a hole they would've learned, but they kept at it until they got the candy. Sure they were modded by that point, but I figured they would've stopped after a few tries.

"So yeah, I wanna be a mouse. I also want tits at least as big as Pantera's and Bitch's." I stumbled at Mouse's request to specifically get bigger boobs.

"Uh...I don't have control over that." Seriously. If I did, I would've prevented it. Big boobs, to me, as a guy, are awesome. But I don't think they're practical by any means of the word, especially at the ridiculous sizes the cafeteria ladies have been pushing themselves to.

"But you could! Can you make a breast-growth formula-." Mouse was interrupted by a pebble smacking her in the visor.

"I am NOT going to let you convince this kid to make something specifically to make boobs grow!" Whirlygig huffed at her from up ahead. "I may appreciate being busty, but there's some ladies who go too far. I don't want him to enable them further."

"I don't want that either. In fact, I was considering making something that _reduces_ breast tissue and mammary gland activity because of some of the Merchant ladies abusing the lactation Surge causes and forcibly overstimulating their breasts into producing more, which makes the glands bigger, etc, etc. It's a very bad cycle and if they weren't superhuman, they'd be handicapped at their sizes." A few of them already had breasts the size of basketballs, and were actually still requesting to get bigger, requests I was _not_ going to fulfill. I mean, _really_ , there has to be a point where _big enough_ , is _too big_.

"Aw...but could you on commission if I'm not satisfied?" Mouse pouted her lips and made pathetic whimpering noises as she fidgeted with her hands clasped in a pleading gesture. "Please~? I just wanna be stacked." Begged the already well-proportioned woman, who I sighed at in exasperation.

"...Ugh. Fine. But only in that case." I am going to keep it close to the chest so nobody has any 'accidents' and ends up with breasts the size of, I don't know, cars? My powers are bullshit, for all I know, something that fucked up could happen. Hell, it could happen to a man even. We all start out female in the womb anyway. "So how would you pay for all of this?"

"Half in cash, half in favors." Mouse replied as if it was the most obvious thing. "Only an idiot goes in full cash or full favors on this sort of thing. I'm a Hero, so I can't do anything illegal, and I can't afford to blow my money on something this expensive, even if it is for a power-up."

"Sensible. I'll arrange things with Tats, since she's the only Thinker we have. I'm sure she'll figure something out where everyone wins." Seriously. The only thing keeping the Undersiders from being folded entirely into the Merchants is that Grue is more-or-less stuck babysitting his little sister we helped him bring to Haven for safety, and Regent not giving a damn and hanging out with Uber and Leet most of the time since they're all gamers.

"Sounds good! Looking forward to it." Mouse answered and we focused back on the patrol.

With that, the rest of the patrol was rather boring. We caught a few Maras tagging over some of the crew's old signs and bagged them, but aside from that and the initial encounter with Chupacabra and Cipito, it was rather unproductive. That wasn't the same for the others though.

As I was flying back to Haven with Whirlygig, I was informed that on the opposite side of the city, at Captain's Hill, Silbón and Coco had decided to attack New Wave's homes openly. Since they were on patrol with the rest of us, thankfully nobody was home when the two towering brutes decided to wreck both the Dallon and Pelham households. Unfortunately, their neighbors weren't away as well. Silbón's whistle has put all of the Dallon's neighbors into comas, and Coco had decided to eat one of the Pelham's neighbors and use their blood to paint an MS13 mural on the only standing wall left of the Pelham household.

"Those fucking monsters." I snarled as I paced onboard the Skiff, simmering at my impotence. They also didn't tell us until now since we were so far away and couldn't intervene. Besides, unless you were either incredibly fast or had incredible range, those two beasts were a death wish to face. Silbón's whistle was literally an irresistible effect within ten meters of him and Coco was perhaps the only thing besides Siberian and Alexandria that could boast being nigh unstoppable and impervious. Why were they all women too?

"They already had Kill Orders, but this is ridiculous." Mouse snarled in her own feelings of helplessness. "They likely knew New Wave was out too, and did this just to make a statement."

"What statement? That they're monsters? We already knew that." I huffed as I took stock of what I had on me out of habit by this point.

"Not just that. But that no matter where we are, we're not safe." Mouse grimly stated, fidgeting in her seat.

"Pfft. Good luck to them finding Haven then." I seriously doubted that with all the precautions Sherrel had Leet and Trainwreck add on that they would get to Haven through the Skiffs or even the gateways.

"Don't jinx it! Coco's been known to get through effects that stop or ignore everything else! You remember Grey Boy? She just walked into one of his bubbles and killed the poor kid in it." Mouse insisted, and I had to shiver at the idea of Coco just wandering around and ending up in Haven for an all-she-can-eat buffet.

"Which has people figuring her power has something to do with time and space on herself." Whirlygig added, to which I sighed and rubbed my mask in exasperation. How can I take down something like that?

The rest of the ride was uneventful, and soon we were in the safety...hopefully safe, pocket dimension of Haven. I wrote down Mouse Protector's order, calculated the total bill, which I inwardly winced at since I still felt charging this much was criminal...heh, but still.

10,000 dollars for a dose of Stim? 1000 for a jug of Surge? 15,000 for the custom Primal? A refit for her costume through Parian and Leet who would charge her separately for after her transformation? Just from me alone, that's 26,000. You could buy a damn car with that, and both Sherrel and Tats still say I'm undercharging. I wonder how Tats and Sher will work out the favors she could do to pay off half of this.

"I'll get to work on your Primal immediately, since I already got a shipment of lab rats and mice too." Medhall was officially out of business, and their lab animals had to either be bought or killed, so I bought some from the public police auction earlier this week under an assumed alias that Tats made for me. She's scary good at what she does.

"Great! I'll get a ride to the Rig in a bit. I hope we don't end up moving it further out into the Bay with the Maras displaying they don't flinch at the idea of attacking us at home." Mouse Protector sighed, as she somehow wiggled the ears on her mouse-themed helmet. Wait….

"...Can't you just warp there?" I mean, teleporting is one of her chief powers alongside her enhanced strength, dexterity, agility, stamina, flexibility...damn, she got a good power.

"Uh...maybe? Let me check." Without fanfare, Mouse vanished, which made me flinch at seeing it in person for the first time. It was uncannily disturbing how-. "Hey~!" I turned in shock to see Mouse Protector dashing towards me from my lab building. "Nice place you got! But yeah, I can just pop in and out whenever. This'll make working together a bit easier since I don't have to wait with the others. Goodbye you dashing rogue, this is farewell from the sly and sneaky Mouse Protector~!" Mouse cheered as she reached me, and jumped over me before she disappeared.

"...Okay then. She can just pop in and out whenever she wants somehow. When did she tag...my autograph. Sneaky woman." I'll have to move that, but I can't keep it home, so where can I-?

My thought process was interrupted by the PA loudspeakers in the middle of the yard suddenly emitting an impossibly loud variant of the air raid sirens from the old wars, and chills swept down me from snout to tail tip, and all my quills stood on end.

An Endbringer Attack.

I ran at full speed to my lab, tackling through the doors, not caring for how I shredded them and took a full run at my setup. Stim. I need all I can carry. "MERCHANTS! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! BEHEMOTH HAS SURFACED IN PAKISTAN AND IS HEADING TO KARACHI! ALL MERCHANTS REPORT TO THE BAY PLATFORM FOR TRANSIT!"

"Deal!" I felt such relief at hearing Rocksteady, because I would need his help. "Deal, we've gotta go!" I turned and tossed a case at him, which he thankfully caught. "What're you doin'?!"

"Loading up as much Stim as I can!" I handed him a few more cases, and grabed a couple armfuls myself before running back outside. "How're we getting to the opposite side of the world?"

"Leet. How else? Well, he and Squealer worked together on it, but it's this huge version of the gateways you and Taylor use to get to and from your houses. Only this thing isn't rooted to the other end." Rocksteady informed me as he followed, and I tried not to stumble at the sight of every Skiff in Haven rising up and flying towards the Bay Platform.

"So what's the plan then? I know what I'm doing, but what about everyone else?" How could we help with Behemoth, or any of the Endbringers? More bodies are just more targets aren't they?

"Don't worry about it boss. I'm with ya, just focus on what you need to do." Rocksteady insisted, and I gathered my will as I entered the Bay Platform, not too surprised to see several of the clinic staff all toting cases of more Stim and various other medical supplies.

"Dealer, you with us?" Ronald, an older asian man who like the others was far younger and fitter than he had any natural right to be, and the closest thing we had to a doctor asked, to which I nodded. "Good. We're gonna need some muscle to make sure nobody gets in the way of us helping."

"Truce is in effect. We're doing this in good faith and Panacea stands by us. I doubt we'll face too much trouble." I braced myself as the huge archway lit up like the smaller ones and I braced myself. Today I apparently got to play Triage Doctor. Fuck.


	51. Chapter 37

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Heat 5.1**_

[Sunday, December 5, 2010]

After I piled into a skiff with the clinic staff and Rocksteady, the huge archway rippled in an opaque splash of white and we all poured through it in an orderly line. I listened to the chatter from the cockpit as I experienced the novel shock of going from nearly dead of night 9pm EST to I guess early morning in Pakistan, maybe around 6am their time from the sun?

Whatever, that wasn't important. What was important, was that Sherrel managed to inform the gathering Protectorate and other unified forces that we were providing evacuation support and medical support, so we weren't put under fire thankfully. I couldn't say that of the hills and fields to what I guess was the Northeast of Karachi. I could see it even from here.

The hulking monstrosity that was Behemoth was vague at this thankfully large distance, but the way the sparse shrubbery of the hills and mountains ignited and spread rapidly from him, creating a climbing and fast-growing haze of dangerous smoke, further emphasized his glowing maw/eye and the shimmering aura of pure heat and radiation he put off.

"Hold on back there! We're going to set down hard and fast at the rally point! Get ready to jump out!" The pilot screamed back at us as we and several of our boxy flying vessels flew with incredible speed towards the Northwest part of the city, and we pulled low and fast into a massive training yard of sorts where emergency tents were already being erected. "Go, go, go!"

We all scrambled out of the skiff, and once the last of us were off, the pilot shot straight up into the sky and flew towards the inner city with the others once they disgorged their riders. At that, I looked around frantically for the medical tent, only to realize most of the tents _were all medical tents_. "Holy shit. Okay, spread out everyone! One case of Stim each, we share across tents. Only the worst cases and amputees get Stim!" I directed as I headed for the nearest group of men in police-like uniforms who seemed to be organizing things here. "We're here to help."

"حضور پاڪ! اوه ... ساڻس ڳالهايو."

I...had absolutely no damn clue what the officer just said, but he pointed to an older man a bit aways and gestured intently, so I figured he wanted me to talk to him. I moved swiftly to the older man. "Hey, uh, we're here to help."

"Good grief. We're getting dinosaurs?" The grey-haired deeply-tanned man with a nasty scar on his brow scratched his head. "What're you here to do? I figured any of you tough ones would be out there trying to fight that thing."

"I'm not exactly able to do that, but I and my crew are here to provide medical aid." Thank god someone here speaks English. I don't think I'd be able to function with whatever language these people apparently speak as their main language.

"Ah, that's a relief. We're a police academy, not a hospital. We may have had plenty of supplies and emergency rations to use, but any help on that front we'll happily take. Each tent has a translator, but some of the people we get might not speak Sindhi, in which case we'll just have to hope for the best." The man gestured me off, and I hurried to the nearest tent emblazoned with a red cross as he shouted at the other officers in what I guess was Sindhi with such volume I wouldn't be surprised that he might even be a drill sergeant at this police academy.

"Well isn't this a surprise." I blinked in honest surprise at almost barreling into Panacea, now in her wooden armor but with her old hood and cloak on over it, likely for identification reasons. "I'm glad you're here, but when you didn't show up with Squealer and Skidmark at the PRT building I thought you were sitting this out. How'd you get here without Strider?"

"Let's just say Leet and Squealer are bullshit and leave it at that." I nervously looked around the empty tent. "This is...surprisingly barren."

"I hear it's rare to have the evacuation zone ready so early, but the Sindh Police are very efficient and prepared. Usually I have to deal with victims before the first tent is even set up at less serious disasters I've volunteered for. But this is the calm before the storm Dealer. Be ready to witness the absolute worst humanity can display." We both flinched at a heart-startling roar that echoed out across the entire city from Behemoth's direction to the East-Northeast. "And it starts." Panacea whispered shakily, taking calming breaths. "It's almost worse being here than out there. I'll never know if anybody I care about will come back, and I could've been there to save them if not."

"Sorry Amy, but no. That's _Behemoth_ out there. Anything we try would be useless. Chiefly because his radiation would instantly kill any of my creations, and you're a contact biokinetic, which again, is useless against radiation." I stressed to the healer, who gave a despondent sigh and nodded to my deductions.

"You're right. Doesn't make me feel any better." Amy grumbled, to which I patted her shoulder.

"It wasn't meant to." I replied, and Amy scoffed and shrugged off my hand before weakly punching me in the chest.

"Thanks anyway then you jerk." Amy said with humor in her tone, so I knew my bit of needling had helped a little, but our moment of camaraderie was interrupted by a policeman running into the tent.

"First wave incoming! Mostly just first evacuees, but might still have some injured." He declared, and then stepped over to the corner nervously. He was fairly young, and his English was a little halted, but I guess he was our translator.

Sure enough, within minutes, a few skiffs swooped in and disgorged a large number of the locals, some were injured, probably from being trampled or other accidents in their frantic evacuation and were being helped by their neighbors now that they were no longer in immediate danger. "So how does this work Amy?"

"Triage is simple. Most severe or about to die first, but if they're too bad they're a write-off. Moderate to severe but stable injuries are second, and minor injuries are last. Most of these people would be in the last category, but lucky them; they're here first." Amy went out of the tent and gestured the evacuees towards us. "Over here! I'll get you patched up before more come!"

"شفا ڏيڻ لاهوتي اچو!"

Our translator helpfully provided, and the injured evacuees were quickly brought over. I didn't see anything bad enough to warrant Stim though, the worst I saw were minor broken ankles or wrists. "I don't think using Stim here would be wise."

"Good call. Save your own brand of healing for moderate to severe Dealer, I'll take care of these folks for now, but I hope whatever paramedics and other medical staff they've got on the way get here soon. We can't be tied up dealing with every little boo-boo and owie." Amy grumbled as she practically poked the injured and the people watched in awe as they simply returned to normal. "Uh...on second thought, it was a good thing I did, this guy had early stage testicular cancer. Hey, tell this guy he had testicular cancer, but it's gone now." Amy said to our translator, and I cringed at the very idea of that heinous cellular failure targeting such a sensitive area.

My balls may be internal now, but still, the family jewels are precious. "This makes me wish I made an easier-to-produce one-time healing remedy that did more than Salve's surface treatment." It was bad enough I'd be responsible for possibly hundreds of people here becoming genetically immortal. "Oh, right, we should also add the side-effects of Stim being agelessness and youthfulness to those we're treating with it."

"Surge is more responsible for the second one, but yeah, Stim is chiefly responsible for that valuable side-effect being permanent." Amy said as she finished with the first wave, but the second wave was already on the way, and the various Mover parahumans were also bringing in civilians now that they were in the thick of fighting/stalling Behemoth if the explosions and regular body-shaking roars meant anything, and were clearly actively evacuating civilians closer to the battle with their teleporting and other unique methods of transit.

Dear god, what have I signed up for?

[Pick Your Poison]

"Hold him down!" I ordered to the orderlies, who had thank fuck finally arrived from whatever useless medical institution this backwards city calls a hospital! The patient at hand was a parahuman, one I didn't recognize with his cyan swirling bodysuit, but he was missing an arm and leg, and half his fucking face and flesh all on the right side of his body. He was also a minor Brute if him shrugging off the orderlies in his delusional flailing meant anything.

Usually Panacea would be taking a case this serious, but he wasn't bleeding out due to the burns having cauterized his wounds and she was dealing with a much more severe case that was indeed bleeding out two cots over.

Sick of my patient's lack of compliance, I took out my small spray can of Knockout and puffed his hyperventilating face, which instantly made him pass out. With him subdued, I jabbed a needle of stim into his remaining thigh, and I sighed as I let him go and tossed the needle into the biohazard disposal bin, which aside from several empty Stim needles, was also filling up fast with other medical waste. "Next!" I shouted out, and got flagged down by one of the English-speaking citizens who volunteered to help us non-natives save the hurt and dying.

After passing by a few cots with less severe injuries, I made my way to the deathly pale man I was directed to, who was weakly shaking. I shook my head ruefully. "Great, another radiation victim. I'm surprised any of you are even making it out of that bastard's aura range." I prepared a dose of Stim. It was all I had that might help since Stim uses DNA as a template to work with, but with the radiation damage to his body, he might not make it long enough for the Stim to do it's work, but I had to try. Amy couldn't do anything without an equivalent mass of normal flesh to replace the irradiated tissues, so I was put on trying to help the people who would usually be put out of their misery.

I injected him in the thigh and sighed before I took another breath. "Next!" The helpers again started pointing me towards another patient, but suddenly, without warning, Alexandria flew in and beelined straight for me.

"Dealer, come with me. Have someone else use your healing equipment." Alexandria, with her grim grey appearance and serious demeanor practically ordered, and I huffed before waving over one of the nurse/orderlies and gave him the currently half-empty case of Stim, which he hurriedly rushed over to where I'd been directed before the Library of Alexandria showed up.

"So what's this about? I can't be any use out there." I curiously demanded, at least somewhat thankful to be out of that insane situation, even if the near-constant tremors of Behemoth's march towards the ports interspersed with explosions, roars, and blinding light from his direction was far more unpleasant than the wails and screams of the dying.

"I'm not taking you out there. That'd be a waste of your talent." Alexandria stated as she guided me between two of the buildings away from the open area and out of sight. "Door Me: Lab." My eyes widened and my heart sank at hearing what she said, and my plumage flared under my coat as the snapping sound of reality rending asunder heralded the opening in the air. "Go inside, and make something to either negate or weaken Behemoth's radiation."

"Uh, what? I make microbiological miracles! That's the exact opposite of nuclear physics! Anything I make would just instantly die from almost any serious amount of radiation." I stressed, only for Alexandria to grab me by the throat with her right hand and pick me up like I was a weightless ragdoll. Can't breathe. Oh god. She's gonna kill me!

"Contessa says you can make things that affect radiation, so you will. Now get in there, make it, and when you're done, Door yourself back to here and get the command tent to hail the Triumvirate, code Alpha Echo Hotel Lima." She then tossed me through the portal, and I impacted head-first with a wall, which cracked while nearly breaking my neck. I groaned and weakly got to my feet as the Doorway snapped shut.

"Bitch. Should've guessed the Triumvirate is involved." And now Alexandria was on my shit-list. Fuck her. If I find out a weakness for her I'm going to carry it on me at all times. Hm...she still needs to breathe, doesn't she? Heh. She just fucked with the wrong Tinker. Next time I see her, I'm making her shit herself, vomit, and experience intense itching that I bet she can't deal with.

Vengeance aside, if Contessa says I can do something, I guess I can. Probably. Better get to work then. Hm, doesn't cannabis have some natural properties that absorb or speed up the decay of radiation? "This is a nice setup here…." I felt myself drifting from the vast clustered spread of herbs and other medicinal plants along with what looked like a sealed library of common bacteria. Before I knew it, I had an arm hooked under my left armpit, and pulling me away from my blissful fugue.

"That's enough for now." Contessa stated curtly, holding up a canvas shopping bag filled with-.

"I MADE BOMBS?!" I've never made bombs! These look like more properly manufactured pipe bombs than anything, to which I had to backtrack my thoughts to realize they were just the dispersal method for the radiation-soaking/decaying/isolating microbes I'd developed. The bombs were already here for me to put them into. "Uh, okay then, thanks. Door Me: Sindh Police Academy." I declared as I took the bag of bombs from Contessa with a nod, and rushed out of the hole in the air conveniently in the same spot I left.

Wasting no time, i ran towards the command tent, which was full of Protectorate Thinkers helping coordinate as best they could. The guards at the entrance tried to stop me, but I shoved past them. "Hey! Alexandria asked me to get her this. Uh, code Alpha Echo Hotel Lima." I rattled off from my hazy memory, and one of the troopers at the portable console immediately started hailing for the Triumvirate.

"What did Alexandria supposedly ask of you?" Warily and archly demanded one of the domino masked thinkers at the small holographic display in the center of the tent.

"To make these." I held up my bag of IEDs and took one out, which made everyone flinch. "They're loaded with harmless microbial colonies of various strains that symbiotically work together to rapidly absorb and decay Alpha/Beta radiation and block Gamma radiation...if that's the kind Behemoth puts out, hopefully."

"He's been observed utilizing Alpha/Beta radiation on occasion, but it is his gamma radiation that is the most apparent and dangerous. If those work, we may have you mass-produce them to help with cleaning up Behemoth's fallout and for future battles against him." The thinker changed his tune quickly, and just in time for Legend to suddenly bolt into the tent in a bright flash of light.

"You called?" Legend briskly and curiously asked, and I held up the bag.

"These IEDs are loaded with a special compound that might negate, or at least weaken the radiation Behemoth's releasing along with any lingering radiation." I declared, and Legend hurriedly grabbed the nearly full-to-overflowing bag, and grabbed a note pinned to the side of the inside I hadn't noticed, and he then flew back off to the raging battle with his insane speed. "Now then, I've got sick and injured to tend to." I declared before I rushed out of the command tent and back towards the triage tents.

[Pick Your Poison]

I slumped in exhaustion against the firmly-pinned tent wall, sinking down to my butt and letting my tail feed under the canvas. The 'battle' was over. I wasn't going to bother asking about the death toll, I didn't want to think about it. I've already lost several patients who were too bad on the way in for me to save and Amy couldn't get to them.

How does she do this? Every. Time? I mean, I think this is her first Endbringer Battle, but she's been to natural disasters and other local tragedies States-side.

Besides, I was already going to dread the losses the crew have suffered. I heard that at least two of the Skiffs, loaded with evacuees even, were targeted by Behemoth and blasted from the sky with a pinpoint lightning blast.

"Hey." I blearily looked up, too tired to think of looking at the still ongoing chaos of the triage center. I have no idea what time it is now, but I basically just stayed up overnight and into the next day on top of all this, the same for all of us from the States. "This spot taken?" I didn't recognize her. She was a waifish young woman of Asian descent judging from her skin tone, body type, and her dirty straight black hair. She wore an empty bandoleer that seemed to be for grenades and a menacing gas-mask with a glowing red visor over casual clothes.

"Nobody's name on it." I replied weakly, and she sat next to me awkwardly, as if she didn't know what to do next. "Who're you?"

"I'm...well, I don't have a name yet, but I was thinking something cheesy and anime like Bakuda or something." The young woman answered before pulling her knees in with her arms. "I just kinda jumped in when I heard the local PRT branch in my town as asking for local parahumans to assist in the battle. I wanted to see if seeing what it was like would inspire anything new." She then looked up at the wailing screams of a woman as Amy apologized and moved on from who may have been the woman's husband.

"Did you see what you were hoping to?" I asked snidely, crinkling my snout under my mask a bit in disgust at even thinking of using a situation like this just for _inspiration_.

"...To be honest? Yeah. I did." She shuddered, and took a cleansing breath. "My counselor told me I needed a new perspective. Something to give me direction when my Major in school suddenly didn't look so attainable." She looked at me again. "I hear you made those bombs that pissed Behemoth off so much he threw the equivalent of a tantrum at getting swarmed up close for once and ran off when he started getting whole chunks torn out of him."

"The bombs were just the dispersal method for my microbes that in layman's terms, eat radiation. I didn't put in a self-terminating failsafe though, so hopefully I won't have to scrub anything if they infest a nuclear power plant." I joked, though quite seriously, they would definitely shut down a power plant, so hopefully none of the bombs reached one. I don't want to be accused of terrorism.

"So they were just the dispersal method then…." Bakuda said with a considering tone. "So, where're you based out of? Just out of curiosity." The girl asked, and I figured if she came here to help, even if for a selfish reason, she couldn't be too bad.

"Brockton Bay. I'm Dealer of the Merchants." I weakly extended a hand and she shook it.

"Oh! That place! I've heard of you guys, making names for yourselves, fighting the 'good fight' or something?" Bakuda commented, before humming, and standing back up. "Well, the fighting's over, and my part's done. I'm gonna head home, have a think. See you later." Bakuda waved goodbye as she left the tent, and I had a niggling feeling I'd probably done something stupid in my exhausted state of mind.

"Dealer!" I blearily snapped awake as Amy pulled me up and moved me to a cot. "Your crew is out of Stim, I can't handle everything. I'm going to be cloning your Stim." Amy informed me as a brutally mangled corpse was put on top of me, and she opened a hole in my arm while the corpse melted into my chest. Of course I couldn't feel any of it, or the Stim-filled blood dumping into a bucket. Swell. I'm a blood donor now. "I'll be putting you under in a second Dealer, thanks for all the help." Amy said, moments before I felt myself blacking out….


	52. Chapter 38

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Heat 5.2**_

[Sunday, December 5, 2010]

After being used by Panacea as a Stim factory so the crew and everyone else using Stim could keep up the good work, and being given one of the best sleeps of my life, I awoke to a sullen and despondent world, as well as a flustered and apologetic Panacea with a severe and disappointed Brandish standing behind her. She apologized for using me as a Stim factory without my given consent, and she only just barely avoided imprisonment since she only used the corpses/cadavers of those whose families agreed to have their deceased loved ones save the lives of others. The fact most of the bodies used were organ donors to begin with expedited some of those people's decisions.

All-in-all, people were thankful for Amy and I's contribution to saving so many lives. With our help, this was apparently the smallest number of recorded deaths from an Endbringer Battle thus far, but even though this was perhaps the most successful encounter with Behemoth, he still killed scores of parahumans and thousands of civilians.

He'd marched straight through the center of Karachi from the Northeast to the Southwest, finally being driven off when he was practically spitting distance from the ports, but he still got the last laugh when he burrowed into the earth and set off a tectonic shift so violent a fissure tore through the city, flooding with the water from the Arabian Sea. Now there was a several hundred feet-deep trench splitting the southwest half of Karachi in two, which along with Behemoth's prior devastation, also destroyed several historical buildings and even the Tooba Mosque.

As it stood, Karachi as a city was dead. None of the government buildings were spared, the airport and central train station were completely destroyed by him, and he also ensured that any commercial value in the city was eradicated. People could still live here, thanks to my microbes killing the particulate radiation fallout, but it would never fully recover. Not to mention it seemed all the damage was secondary, because Behemoth's last act also destroyed the oil refineries at Karachi's coast and had dumped untold amounts of crude oil into the Arabian Sea, killing any local fishing industry as well as poisoning the whole region.

He may not have been able to irradiate anything permanently or detonate an oil or gas vein which he was known to do, but he still got to poison the city and every city and town along the coast for possibly hundreds of miles as well as killing a vast quantity of marine life.

I felt useless, even if I did save so many lives, several of the radiation victims didn't survive the violent tumor-forming phase of Stim trying to fix them. While most of them did survive, they were malformed and scarred from the Stim being confused by their heavily damaged DNA. Amy said they were like a comic book character called Deadpool, but I had no idea who that was. She said their mutations made them unstable, but the Stim was still working, so she just had to work on giving their Stim new orders and they'd be fine by week's end. Hopefully.

Then there was the crew.

We've lost nearly 20 pilots along with their Skiffs and all civilians aboard. Behemoth apparently didn't like it when people tried to save his victims and eerily kept sniping off Skiffs that held civilians. Since when was Behemoth his sister?

Mush was here in a tent. He layered himself in scrapped lead and old tires, and went right up to Behemoth in a massive gestalt of rubble and garbage about half the Endbringer's size and pounded on the monster well enough he stalled him a few minutes. He nearly died from the kill aura once it worked through the layers of lead and rubber, but he was saved by Legend dropping several of my microbe bombs right on top of them.

I was so relieved. We almost lost a guy who was with us from the start and seemed to have bigger balls than anyone assumed. He'd recover since his Stim was already accustomed to his unique biology, he just needed a week off, I wouldn't let him back on active duty any sooner if it could be helped.

Mush on bedrest and those brave dead pilots aside, we didn't lose many more people since we wised up after losing several Skiffs in a single disturbing lightning chain, but this massive death toll was hitting us hard, and we would be hard-pressed to recover from it, especially with the recent deaths preceding it. I'm fairly upset at the death's themselves, but I barely knew any of the dead beyond a professional capacity, I can't imagine how bad their friends and family among the crew must be taking it. Then again, I've lost my dad, and that pain never goes away, it just gets easier to bare. But this, this is a fresh, jagged wound on the spirits of the Merchants.

" _ **ALL BROCKTON BAY PARAHUMANS! REPORT TO THE COMMAND TENT ASAP!"**_ i jolted out of my depressed brooding and turned my gaze from the ruined skyline of Karachi towards the command tent. Compelled by the quite loud and authoritative announcement, I sprinted towards the tent and soon was standing amongst several Brockton capes.

I looked around in relief to see Skidmark and Trainwreck among us, even if Skidmark currently had an advanced robotic prosthetic clamped onto his left arm stump and shoulder. Again, Leet is fucking bullshit. Hey, when did Tattletale get here? She wasn't here when I came in earlier.

I was also relieved to see some heroes. Armsmaster and Militia were here specifically. It made sense that they would be in the command tent once the battle was over anyway. It seemed a few of the Wards were here, I could see Stalker staring at me from across the room, and I felt awkward with her so blatantly focused on me the moment I entered the tent.

"Alright, what's going on now that some more of us are here." Armsmaster demanded of the same Thinker that had grilled me about my bombs. Why had they left the head of Protectorate ENE out of the loop?

"About eight...numbers aren't looking good. Odds are bad. But if we wait longer...alright. The Truce has been broken by the MS13. We've gotten reports from the PRT that the villain known as Coco has attacked your Protectorate Headquarters. Silbón has assaulted the PRT Headquarters, and Cadejo has shown up at the BBPD's downtown headquarters." We all were clearly incensed at hearing the Thinker's news, but he continued on before we could respond. "We're arranging for Strider to get as many of you there to respond as possible, we'll also have him deliver reinforcements as volunteers become available."

"I'd rather get this over with, so could you all come outside!" Someone shouted from outside of the tent, and as the one closest to the entrance, I was first to be greeted with the sight of an average-looking man of average height and build with a very plain pale face under large goggles. He wore a heavy black and blue coat with a lightning motif along the buttons. That, along with his padded trousers, thick boots, and thick white gloves, hinted at his fragile nature. The traditional U.S Police style hat did little to improve this. "I'm tired, and I have to do more than one 'Stride' to get you to the other side of the planet."

"You realize there'll be more of us right?" Skidmark asked as we all gathered together.

"Oh, he does. He's already exhausted thinking of it. His power practically batters him for using it too much. Yikes. You got the shit end of the power stick Strider." Tats grimaced and rubbed at her temples.

"Hmph. Don't gotta tell me that. This everyone? Right, where to?" Strider asked of Armsmaster, which none of us villains took umbrage at. In this scenario, best to let the Heroes dictate things since we're under the Truce.

"The roof of-right, that was destroyed. The exposed top floor of the former Medhall building." Armsmaster specified, and the blue-clad hero nodded in acknowledgement.

"Alright. First stop on the halfway; Madrid, Spain." After Strider's words, the world snapped, and I had to blink at going from a police academy yard in the late evening, to nearly afternoon in the middle of an empty soccer stadium. Then, before I could even adjust, we were in the mid-morning light of Brockton Bay. "I'm heading back to await more reinforcements." With that, Strider vanished in a near-silent snap of reality being kicked in the balls, and I couldn't hold in the vomit anymore, spewing bile at my feet. Ugh…. Teleporting sucks.

"First time's always the hardest." Stalker commented as she roughly pat my back, and I groaned as I stood up and saw Tattletale nearly insensate on her hands and knees, also having lost her stomach. Skidmark and the rest were perfectly fine though. "So Halbeard, any reason we're up top here and not at the PRT HQ?"

"The reason, Stalker, is because of that." Armsmaster growled as he pointed out towards the bay, and I felt my blood boil at the sight of the Rig mostly submerged with barely a bit of the side above water. "As well as the fact that with Silbón's powers we might as well write off Director Piggot and the whole PRT building as a lost cause. The only reason I didn't have him drop us at the downtown BBPD headquarters is because I'm not going to blindly drop in on Cadejo of all people. The other reason…." Armsmaster paused, and the loud whirring that answered had us spinning around to see one of Dragon's remote-piloted craft starting up. "Is because Dragon and I anticipated these villains would go the whole way with their track record."

"I only have this one craft available Armsmaster, and I can't focus too much on being here and on rescue operations in Karachi at the same time." Dragon's voice echoed out from the craft, to which Armsmaster grunted as he and the rest of the group approached the opening side hatch while I helped Tats to her feet.

"You okay?" I asked my ally as I supported the shaking young woman's shoulders.

"Not really. Been running my power ragged, and it doesn't like having all the things it's trying to tell me suddenly change in an instant. At least through Squealer's portal it's a transition. But Strider's teleport was too much." Tats informed me as she leaned on me and we moved to enter the VTOL craft. "Fuck...the things my power told me about Behemoth. That thing was holding back. It was playing with us. What's the point of fighting them if they aren't even being serious?"

"Existential crisis later Tats, homefront crisis now." I insisted, trying not to let the panic her words inspired come to the front. "So you were out watching the battle instead of helping the Think Tank?" I had figured she'd have preferred not to pointlessly risk her life, so figuring out she had instead gone to the frontline and witnessed Behemoth directly was a surprise.

"My power works on observation Deal. If I can't see it, my power can only draw conclusions from given information. All I had to do was watch from the skies, far out of his range with binoculars, and I got more than enough. I've already told the Think Tank what I could get out of it, and it's not hope inspiring." Tats shuddered and wrapped an arm around my back and squeezed me. "I'm gonna need a vacation after this bullshit is over with." Figuring she needed some reassurance, I wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed her to my side in a one-armed hug as we sat down in the aircraft, making her calm down a bit and she stopped shaking so much, but was still shivering. "Thanks. Hugs are nice when shit gets bad."

"Didn't take you for a touchy-feely kind of girl Tats." I commented, which got a snort of amusement out of her.

"I'm not. But this is some serious shit I'm talking about. I'll spare you the horror until things settle down a bit." Tats replied, before letting go of our half-hug and then slugged me in the shoulder with a friendly grin. "Thanks for not letting your mind hit the gutter, but I'm still asexual."

"Hey, I'm as perverse and red-blooded as any guy, and I'm not the one who let their thoughts get dirty." I snarked in response to the beautiful blonde, who impishly stuck her tongue out at me and we shared a laugh. "You're a good friend Tats."

"The best, and don't forget it." Tats declared, before leaning over towards Stalker who had sat right next to Tats in a very confrontational way. I don't know what she whispered, but it clearly had Stalker perked up, to which I was wary what she was telling my love/hate companion.

"Tats. What did you just do?" I demanded nervously, and to my horror, Stalker was the one to chuckle and respond.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Stalker smugly replied. Bullshit! What did Tats just tell her?!

"Oh god, can you three get a room? As much as I like the idea I don't want to see the start of a threesome." Clockblocker, the only other Ward with us groaned from his seat across from us.

"Stalker, do I need to remind you about propriety and take you through another sex-ed class?" Miss Militia clearly threatened of Stalker, who grumbled and edged away from Tats and I with a visible pout from the way she crossed her arms under her chest.

"Hey, don't knock it just because you're practically celibate and married to your job." Tats poked at the older heroine who visibly bristled, so I interjected to diffuse the situation.

"What about you Tats? I thought you were asexual? If you're mocking Militia for being celibate, doesn't that mean you have experience? I know you have sexuality issues, but it's mostly because you can't get your head out of your panties isn't it?" I taunted my friend, who blushed scarlet and frowned at me.

"That's a low blow Deal." Tats didn't bother trying to rebuttal, I guess I got her good on that one.

"Cut the chatter. This is unprofessional and inappropriate behavior. I understand that you're not heroes and you don't have upstanding morals to adhere to. But as long as we're working together, please keep things civil." Armsmaster ordered, to which Skidmark grunted and nodded in agreement, so we all quieted down as the aircraft moved us through the air towards whatever our destination is. I was too caught up with talking to Tats to pay attention.

Needless to say, with our banter nixed, things got awkward quick with only the hum of the aircraft's engines penetrating the silence. We didn't have much longer to wait though, as the craft descended and we all hurried out to see the burning husk of the former BBPD downtown HQ with a few mutilated police corpses scattered over the entrance with blood and amputated limbs and torn out throats the name of the day. Save one.

I rushed over to the weakly breathing body of a red-headed policewoman and out of practice, flicked out my Stim case, which was thankfully replenished, and injected her in the intact thigh without hesitation. She'd had her left leg bitten off by massive teeth and jaws and was left to bleed out. I turned her over now that Stim had already gotten to work stopping the bleeding and looked at the barely conscious woman's name tag. "Can someone call an ambulance?! Officer McMullen here's still breathing!"

"Geno~?" I froze at hearing the delirious exsanguinated officer weakly utter Reverb's civilian nickname.

"No miss. I'm Dealer of the Merchants. You're seriously injured, but I've treated you with a Tinker serum that will save your life. Don't move too much, help is on the way." I informed the woman sternly, to which she weakly nodded and closed her glazed green eyes. Shit. She must know Reverb personally. If he wasn't going to help us out before, he better now that I'm going to give him a call. "Someone keep watch on her, I've got a call to make."

"To who?" Militia curiously asked as she had remained outside with us while only Armsmaster and Stalker entered the blazing inferno of the police department. The former's armor was possibly immune or resistant to the flames while Stalker's Breaker state was immune to the heat, so it made sense for them to go in and search for survivors, as well as being the most likely to survive an encounter with Cadejo, since his Breaker state while invulnerable, wasn't much stronger than a cow-sized dog, even if there were up to five of him at once.

"Someone who owes me a favor." I vaguely informed as I took out my flip phone and speed-dialed Reverb while I walked a short distance away. It wasn't uncommon for villains to know each other, so I figured even if the phone was captured, Reverb could just change his number since this was his burner.

"Yo Deal. What're you doing giving me a holler from the other side of the planet?" Reverb answered, since he didn't beat around the bush, I could assume he wasn't in public.

"I'm not. I'm back in Brockton. Do you know an Officer M.C.M?" At my question, the background noise that I just noticed because it stopped came to an end.

"Your next words better be well phrased." Reverb's threatening tone told me I was right.

"She was bleeding out in front of the downtown police department. I've stabilized her but fact is Cadejo nearly killed her." I paused as Reverb went on a furious rant filled with enough expletives to make Skidmark proud. "I have something to ask of you." I interjected in a break of his ranting.

"Ask it you impudent shit!" Reverb demanded as I could hear clattering and clicking going on in the background now.

"Kill Cadejo." Wow. That felt really good to say for some reason. Satisfying.

"I was going to anyway, ask something else." I heard a zipper on his end, he must be suiting up then.

"Help me locate either Silbón or Coco." With Cadejo most likely dealt with, I could turn my focus to either the towering golem of wood and bones, or the nearly unstoppable heap of rags.

"Hold on." Reverb put the phone down from the sound of it, and after several seconds, he picked it back up. "I hear something nasty going on over at the Trainyard." Reverb's grim words had my heart racing and fear shooting through my veins. "Better hurry, it suddenly stopped."

I hung up without another word, and ran back to the group to find Trainwreck helping Armsmaster move a horribly burned man out of the burning building. "Skids! HQ is under attack!"

"WHAT?! How the fuck-COCO! That bitch! I knew she might've-sorry heroes, but we've gotta go hunt down a nearly unstoppable cannibal." Skidmark took out his phone and speed-dialed someone. "Shit. Shit. SHIT! Answer! Fuck!" He dialed someone else. "C'mon. C'mon. Thank fuck! Haven's under attack! We need transport now! We're in front of the downtown BBPD building. Yes the burning one! Get here now!" Skidmark hung up. "Haven Dispatch isn't responding, had to call one of the safehouses."

"We would be willing to lend you a hand." Militia declared with all seriousness.

"Sorry babe, but even with the Truce we can't trust your bosses won't force you to spill our base's location. You lot do what heroes do, we'll take care of our own problems." Skidmark responded, then looked to me, Tats, and Trainwreck. "We've lost a lot of people today, and the past weeks. We're at the lowest we've ever been, and now some crazy bitch is trying to finish us off."

"Most likely thanks to info fed by Coil. He's the only one I can think of that would know where Haven is that isn't a friend. Or ally." Tats hinted at while looking at me, to which I nodded.

"Even more reason to kill him then. But as for now, we're going up against a bitch with a reputation second only to the Siberian. If you think you can't help, I won't begrudge you if you back out." At our silence, he nodded. "Good to have you, we have a bitch to kill." At the end of Skidmark's statement, a Skiff door opened in the street. Damn showman, always with the good timing.


	53. Interlude 5a

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Valkyrie**_

[Sunday, December 5, 2010]

It was a fairly normal apartment. Plain white walls. Tan carpeting. Nice and boring with only a few cheap pieces of brown furniture including a microfiber couch in the small living room across from the wall with the large if old TV. All that separated this small living space from the kitchen was the countertop extending from the wall. It also had a single full bathroom and two bedrooms with queen beds, the biggest luxury this place had.

On one of these beds in one of these nearly bare rooms laid an extraordinarily beautiful blond woman in a lazy blue blouse and a short skirt with assets to make most women jealous and legs long enough to make her seem taller than she was.

With a sigh, Jessica Biermann turned over on her side and looked over at the alarm clock on the bedside table with her deep blue eyes, and then groaned as she sat up at seeing it was about 9AM, nearly 12 hours since most of the parahumans in the city made a mad dash to Karachi. Nearly 12 hours of her holding down the fort in one of the few remaining secret Empire safehouses while her sister Nessa and their young charge Cassandra took advantage of the lack of patrols to try and find any intact caches the rest of the splintered gang may not have found.

After all, with Medhall gone and the Empire with it, she and Nessa hardly had a form of income. It got worse when the Anders family was brought under FBI investigation, which quickly spread to the Biermann family, and then most of the families in the Herren Clan past them. With the FBI so far up their asses, she couldn't even call for assistance without outing herself and her family. If that wasn't enough, that traitor Veronica was sitting pretty in a Protectorate holding cell, likely singing like a canary to keep from being caged.

But honestly, jess couldn't fault Veronica for surrendering. After Reverb blew up Medhall and killed Victor, she'd lost both her husband and her cause, and the Herren Clan wasn't fond of failure, even unavoidable failure. She would've probably been re-married to some other Aryan stereotypical man and forced to make super-powered blonde-haired blue-eyed white babies.

Jess knew such a fate likely awaited her and her fellow female compatriots now that they've so gloriously fallen from grace, and the thought sent a shudder through her before she got up and idly stretched before heading to the kitchen. She paused in the hallway to look herself over in the mirror next to the small alcove for a washer/dryer, and couldn't help biting her lip at appreciating her own body. She did prefer women after all….

"Jess!" At hearing the familiar voice of her twin sister Nessa screeching like a banshee from the front door, she jolted out of her narcissistic fantasy and ran into the living room, already having grown in size from her usual height of about 5'6" to 7 feet, ready for combat, only to see her more uptight identical twin in her more conservative green blouse and slacks with their charge Cassandra with her blue-dyed hair and her quite casual jeans and graphic T-shirt that said 'Bite Me' entering with arms full of reusable canvas shopping bags. "Damn it, cut that out before the neighbors downstairs hear you stomping around like a neanderthal!"

"Damn it Nessa! I thought something bad was going on! Don't scream so damn loud next time!" Jess snarled back as she calmed down and let her powers fade away, shrinking herself back down to her usual 5'6". "How much did you find?" Jess asked as she took some bags from the beleaguered Cassandra and looked inside to see it was filled with canned foods.

"Plenty. Most all the low-security safe-houses have been made, so we kept going when we saw the warning tags. This place might be the best one left among the more secret ones though, even the penthouse in Uptown is on watch." Nessa groused as she started emptying her own bags into the cabinets.

"Yeah, Empire's pretty fucked." Cassandra eloquently summarized as she began emptying and sorting her own bags along with Jess helping her. Jess appreciated the rebellious young girl's blunt attitude unlike Nessa. Also, she clearly wasn't as indoctrinated as most of the Empire and their mutual family.

"Tch. Doesn't help almost all that's left of the crew besides us are empty-headed fanatics and idiots too blind to see reality." Jess commented in agreement. "Any news on Night and Fog?" Jess asked of her sister, who sighed and shook her head.

"They refuse to aid us anymore without Purity, and keep asking us to get her in contact with them. Race traitor she may be, but I'm starting to think Kayden did the right thing jumping ship just before everything went to hell." Nessa grumped as she finished putting away the food. "Especially if Gesellschaft and those two freaks are still insisting on keeping tabs on her."

"She is really damn powerful." Cassandra commented as she made some hand gestures over a couple cans and used her powers to lazily levitate them into the cabinets, no longer wanting to bother bending or kneeling to put the rest of the food away. Which, of course, earned her a smack to the back of the head from Nessa.

"Don't waste your powers on something so lazy! Just keep putting everything away." Nessa ordered before gesturing for Jess to follow her out, likely for another haul from the car. Jess had to stop to slip on her sneakers though, but that only took a few seconds. "Ugh. I can't stand that lazy runt. She's always complaining. Never stops with the sarcasm."

"She's a teenager Nessa. Remember that we were teenagers not too long ago." Jess reminded her sister, as they were only in their mid-twenties.

"But we were never such disrespectful tramps like she is." Nessa declared as they got into the central and only elevator of the small apartment building.

"Speak for yourself." Jess rebutted. She remembered her mildly disrespectful behavior with the Clan fondly. What little she could get away with without getting the cane that is.

"You were always the black sheep between us Jessica. Can't you just-?" Nessa was interrupted by Jessica's mercurial glare as she jabbed the ground floor button.

"Not. Now." Jess snarled. Her sister had absolutely no tact or respect for sensitive topics as usual. An elevator ride to get groceries was not the time to discuss her sexuality damn it.

"I'm just saying it's not natural-." Before Nessa could continue, Jess slapped her to remind her that the topic she was broaching was none of her business.

"I decide what's natural for me!" Jess asserted. It was bad enough Nessa always had Max to back her up before, and the threesomes...ew. The only thing that made having sex with that, that, _pig_ , bearable was having Nessa involved. Funny that Nessa never noticed or thought it weird how much Jess ravished her when in those awkward and unpleasant situations the two forced on her. But now, with that hypocritical loveless trash gone, she wasn't about to let Nessa continue to suppress her. Not when it seemed she might finally be able to get out from under the Clan's thumb soon.

"...Say that to the Family…." Nessa mumbled as she rubbed her reddened cheek. "If, no, _when_ they finally find out, I'm scared what they'll do to you." Nessa admitted, and Jess sighed before pulling her sister in for a hug.

"I know sis. I know." Jess admitted, and broke off the hug when the elevator, damn old thing, finally reached the ground floor from their apartment's level on the eighth floor. However, any thoughts of getting the groceries halted when they saw the stream of panicked civilians entering the lobby from the streets, frantic cries of fear and confusion flooding them, and the two sisters suddenly had to fight a tide of people trying to press into the old elevator.

Thankfully, they didn't have to do anything too drastic to get out of the elevator before it filled up, and watched for a moment as those who couldn't squeeze into the elevator began following the majority up the stairwell. "Hey! What the hell is going on?!" Nessa demanded of a terrified older man of indistinct heritage.

"The Rig! Something's sunk it! There's fires coming from Downtown and police are scrambling, ordering everyone inside." He then pulled out of Nessa's now-stunned grip and followed the flow of humanity up the stairs with some help from some concerned younger citizens. The sisters looked to each other in horror, and ran outside while wrapping a domino mask they both kept on their person over their eyes, and once outside, shot up to their full height of 50 feet within several seconds, and Jessica's heart sank like the Rig at seeing it on it's side and sinking more.

"Veronica!" Jessica screamed desperately, immediately sprinting towards the shore, stepping over traffic and jumping intersections, ignoring her sister's following pleas for her to stop. Veronica might be a traitorous bitch, but she was still family, more family than most of the Clan anyway. On the way to the shore, she coughed and her eyes watered as smoke from Downtown blew into her elevated face, and she nearly tripped, which at her size was a death sentence for anyone unfortunate enough to be under her, but she stumbled into a deteriorated and empty storefront and recovered before continuing onward.

Once she reached the shore near the Boardwalk, she had to pause. She'd never gone into water while at full size. Never tested if she would float or sink, how to swim. She shifted from side to side, watching the Rig continue to sink, it was almost fully submerged now. The Bay was around a couple hundred feet deep at its deepest right? The Rig was maybe as tall as the bay was deep then, the place wasn't able to take really big ships. "Fenja!"

Jess spun around to see her sister had caught up, and she seemed equally concerned for the sinking platform. "Menja! We have to save Othala, what do we do?!" Jess turned back around and reached out imploringly at the sinking Rig in the middle of the bay.

"...We swim." Nessa resolved, and ran out into the water, Jess following, cringing at the biting cold of the winter ocean water. Not even a quarter of the way out, the water was deep enough to reach their hips, halfway they were already swimming, which was surprisingly easy. Maybe their Breaker effect extended to physics and not just combat? Either way, they swam out as easily as if they were their normal sizes, and grabbed onto the sinking formerly-floating building.

"Shit!" Jess cursed, it was even heavier than it looked, but it seemed their powers were in their favor, since whatever they grabbed and held onto gained their own properties, but only for a certain amount of mass, the rest of the Rig beyond the immediate areas they were grabbing were unaffected.

Desperately, the sisters kicked and swam with their burden towards the shore, getting harder the whole way as the interior likely filled with water, Jess pleading to whatever god may listen that the cells holding her cousin still had enough air until they got to shore.

By the time they finally, thankfully, reached some footholds under the water, the sun was already higher in the sky, and with that, moving the Rig became laughably easy, and they pulled it up and out of the water as they neared the shore. "MOVE! Damn it! Move!" Nessa screamed at the gathering paramedics and other emergency response crews at the nearest bit of shore as the sisters had to drag the draining and flotsam-covered mess of a building onto the sand.

Once it was ashore enough that it wasn't about to backslide into the water, Jess collapsed, coughing and wheezing as her teeth chattered and she shivered violently, only now realizing how blue her skin was. "Ma'am! Ma'am! Shrink down! We have thermal warming equipment!" Jess shook and looked down at the paramedics who had approached her with an emergency blanket and boxes of gear.

Realizing how weak and at risk she was, Jess silently nodded and shrank down, unfortunately her center of mass was still halfway in the water, so a few paramedics ran into the shallow water to pull her the rest of the way onto shore and away from the wet. Jess then lost track of her surroundings. It was so cold. She couldn't get enough air. Where was she? God why was it so _hot_? Jess tried to take off her already scant clothing, but something kept stopping her.

Why was someone kissing her? Mm, they tasted good. They didn't mind when she slipped some tongue, so she tried to grab onto them, but her arms weren't responding. Why so wobbly? Heh, wobbly arms. No, wait, she was wrapped in something. But why? She was so damn _hot_ why would they wrap her? Hot! Why are they making her drink boiling water?! Ew! Despite her slurred protests, the scalding hot liquid was poured down her throat. Then someone kept shouting at her and smacking her. Rude! She wasn't up for BDSM! Gotta get past the third date for that!

Wait...what's going on? "Ugh…." Jess weakly groaned, dizzily looking around. The sun seemed to have set and it was dark outside, she was in a hospital bed, tightly swaddled in a blanket. "Wha…?"

"Good to see you awake." Jess blearily looked towards the speaker, and was both shocked and horrified to see the familiar visage of Miss Militia sitting in a chair, looking exhausted and wary. "Glad you survived like your sister. You two did something incredible today."

"What?" Jess asked in confusion, her terror being replaced with apprehension.

"Hypothermia. Your powers lessened the effect on you, but the paramedics made the wrong call and asked you to shrink down for treatment, which only worsened your conditions. Thankfully they were prepared enough to get you dry and warmed up before moving you to the hospital." Militia extended her right hand, and Jess instinctively flinched, only for Militia to lay her hand gently where under the blanket her own right hand rested. "Today. You became a Hero."

"W-what?!" Jess replied, it seemed to be the only word she could get out apparently.

"You're likely still confused, but I'll try to be frank. Your actions today during the time of the Truce, although not at the Endbringer Battle, have proven that you and your sister are truly capable of being more than Villains…." Militia stated as if in wonder, squeezing Jess's hand through the blanket, and Jess couldn't help the quick up-down scan she gave of the quite attractive heroine before she felt her face flush with warmth.

"Uh...we...we didn't do it to save everyone on the Rig. Just Othalla." Jess didn't know if they were holding Cricket at the Rig too, considering she was nearly crippled when Reverb smashed in their limo's engine block that fateful night, and they had to leave her at a hospital and hope she would survive.

"Your cousin." Jess tensed at Militia's declaration, and tensed more when the heroine pulled down her patriotic mask. "Hello Jessica Biermann. I'm Hannah." The middle-eastern woman's smile was so radiant and beautiful, that Jess felt her heart rate spike at the beautiful woman's earnest and kind visage, her hazel eyes captivating.

"H-hi…." Jess squeaked, all nerves. "Um...so I'm not under arrest?"

"Not a chance. The Truce period has been extended here in Brockton Bay considering the violation by the MS13, and even if not, you and your sister have already redeemed yourselves. Neither of you have outstanding charges outside of property damage and you've only killed a few people on accident at best." Militia stated reproachfully, and Jess had the decency to feel ashamed of her criminal activities. She only deliberately killed one person in her life, a 'lesser race' man as part of her upbringing in the Herren Clan. She didn't really have a choice back then though.

"...So, about Veronica?" Jess asked in concern, and Militia looked sad.

"She was in worse condition than you two. She's still recovering, but thanks to her prison cell's hardlight security and the containment foam sprayers going off when the Rig began to sink, she survived long enough for some PRT EMTs to get to her and provide aid." At Hannah's news, Jess felt all the tension just leave her body, and she slumped into her bed.

"Thank god. It wasn't for nothing." At Jessica's words, Hannah gave her hand another squeeze, and she looked back up to the heroine, who was looking stern now.

"Even if she didn't make it, you still would've saved over a hundred lives Miss Biermann." Hannah insisted, and Jess felt ashamed for being so selfish, but wasn't everyone entitled to consider their family first? Still, she felt warm inside at the beautiful heroine insisting she was a Hero for doing something so stupid and impulsive as to nearly sacrifice herself for...people she didn't even know….

"...Call me Jess." Jess meekly requested with a shy smile, and Hannah must've caught on to her intentions, because her cheeks dusted a little red and her smile crinkled her eyes in such a delightfully expressive way.

"Very well Jess. We'll talk more when you've recovered fully. You get your rest, you're safe here." At the oddly reassuring words of the dusky-skinned woman, she stood and left, and Jess bit her lip at the eyeful of the woman's pants-filling toned booty. Damn. Even in combat pants that woman was a 10 out of 10. "And thank you." Jess shot her eyes up to Hannah's eyes, blushing more at being caught ogling, but the woman's teasing smile before she pulled her mask back up and that she didn't turn around fully told her that it wasn't unwelcome, especially if the hand resting on a cocked hip which emphasized her butt more was any indication. "You've shown me that Villains can be redeemed, and that not every Villain is a monster." Militia winked, and Jess felt her head heat up more before the woman left and closed the door.

What a tease.

With that, Jess was alone in her hospital room, and she reached her hand up, hissing at how sensitive her skin was at the burning-hot flesh of her hand meeting the seemingly-freezing air of the room, and she rubbed her face to see she still wore her domino mask. She hadn't noticed, but her hair was wrapped in a towel and draped up over the pillow, likely to keep her hair away from her head so her body would have an easier time regulating her temperature. Or something. She wasn't well-versed in medicine.

She wasn't handcuffed, that was something, and the room did have PRT guards outside the door from what she saw as Hannah left. Then her thoughts immediately shot into the gutter and she pulled the blanket over her head in embarrassment at so quickly imagining getting into Hannah's pants. "Slow down Jess. You don't even know what's going to happen now." Besides, the Clan and Gesellschaft obviously weren't going to just let her go legit without trying to kill her.

But maybe...this could be a new chance at a better future? No more pointless posturing? No more threatening people just because they didn't share her skin color? No more repressing her desire for female companionship? And the possibility of landing herself a girlfriend like Hannah? Well, if she didn't misread the patriotic heroine that is.

But what about Nessa? She couldn't just leave her. What about Cassandra? The girl was aimless, lost, trying to find her niche in the world. Jess fretted, what could she do? She and Nessa might be in the clear, but Cassandra, Rune, was still a Villain with no good merits to her name and a criminal background to boot.

Now worried and hopeful at once, Jess closed her eyes and decided to let sleep stall the situation. This morning, her life was fairly terrible. But now, things might finally be looking up.

Jessica Biermann. A Hero. She...liked the sound of that. Jess fell asleep with a faint smile, and the warm thoughts of dusky booty on her mind.


	54. Chapter 39

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Heat 5.3**_

[Sunda, December 5, 2010]

As soon as we piled into the Skiff, we took off at speed and nearly flew into a 50-foot tall playboy model level of beautiful and sexy woman in a plain blue blouse and short skirt who was sprinting through the city, and we had thankfully ascended higher after that to avoid being hit by her twin giantess sister. "What the fuck?! What're those two Neo-Nazi bitches doing at a time like this?!" Skidmark demanded as we watched while the pilot continued towards Haven.

"Well what do ya know…." Trainwreck mused as we saw Fenja and Menja run into the bay and swim towards the sinking Rig. "Guess even Nazis have hearts." At this, I opened my phone and dialed Miss Militia's temporary contact number that the heroes established for our collaboration.

"Who is this?" Militia demanded of me, and I ignored the heat in her voice at not recognizing my burner, which I'll have to 'burn' after this is over if the rumors of her eidetic memory were true.

"Dealer. We just saw Fenja and Menja sprint for the Bay. They've jumped in and are swimming for the Rig in nothing but their civvies." Now that I considered it, those two might die from this stunt. That water is just above freezing this time of year.

"They must be trying to save Othala and Cricket. But there is no way they can know which part of the Rig to tear off...I'll arrange for emergency services, thank you for the heads-up." Militia sounded conflicted at the news, but her feelings were none of my business.

"This is our city too Militia. The more we work together, the better things will be." I hung up, and braced myself to try and fight a supposedly unstoppable killing machine. "So...how are we going to go about this?"

"I need to see her to get more information, but what I've gathered from extrapolation says that she'll be nearly immune to most forms of physical conflict." Tats informed us, and we all sighed.

"Great, and us without our Masters." I grumbled. Taylor and Danny were both in Karachi right now, helping with search-and-rescue. They both had huge areas of effect, and both could find people just by being ferried around. Damn. If Danny was here, he might've been able to swap bodies with Coco and render her helpless long enough for us to launch her into space or over Antarctica or something.

"Well...Regent stayed at Haven…." Tats mentioned with worry in her demeanor, and we all steeled ourselves moments before the blinding psychedelic effect of entering Haven's dimensional pocket kicked in.

"OH SH-!" The pilot never got to finish his statement, because almost immediately after we finished entering Haven, a length of train track rail speared through the cockpit, taking his head along with it and jerking the Skiff moments before it's gravity system failed and we plummeted the few stories of height we were at to crash straight down into the ground. It was really disorienting, and painful. Like being in a bounce castle full of rocks. It was worsened by how the Skiff crumpled atop us, some jagged bits dug into my back but failed to pierce my coat.

I groaned, but before I could even begin to move, a nearly indistinguishable iridescent hand just punched through our prison, grabbed Trainwreck, and pulled him out without barely a hint of resistance. Seeing my companion getting taken must've gave me a huge surge in adrenaline, because I suddenly found the strength to rip myself out of the wreckage, and practically felt my pupils contract into even smaller slits and my heart stop at seeing a 10-foot tall vaguely feminine pile of rags stab her hand into Trainwreck's chest, which obviously killed him if him ragdolling meant anything.

The monstrous bitch then tossed aside my massive friend's corpse like he was nothing, and I felt all my hackles raise in pure fury. Behind her, the entire yard was littered with half-eaten butchered members of the crew. The nearest one was...Robert...he was just a mechanic...he had grandkids…. "Duérmete niño, duérmete ya….Que viene el Coco y te comerá. Ha ha~!" The monster sung in Spanish, before idly grabbing a limb from Robert and raising it to her head, which seemed to split open her tattered rags from the top of her skull to her upper chest with a massive vertical jaw, and she swallowed the arm whole.

"You absolute bitch!" I screamed, drawing my revolver and shooting her with four pellets of Knockout, which seemed to surprise her if her stumble meant much, but then she snarled and jumped at me, which I dodged my jumping over her, shooting her twice more before I rolled forward and kited her away from my still trapped companions.

Okay, what am I going to do?! She's nearly invulnerable, but she showed a reaction to Knockout. Damn it. Does she breathe? Why don't I-yes! I just remembered I still have the partially empty Knockout fogger from when I fought Chupacabra yesterday! I dodged a Jeeper's corpse that Coco threw at me, and proceeded to fish in my pockets for the fogger, finding it quickly. I tabbed it open and kept running, and she didn't bother to avoid it.

"Fucking seriously?!" She just ran straight through the green cloud. Sure, she stumbled, seemed dizzy, but she recovered far too quickly. Frustrated, I spun around and performed a roundhouse kick with my talon leading, which interestingly caused the towering iridescent monster of a woman to hiss as I carved a line through her stomach, and I rolled away before the retaliating swipe came.

"Me pregunto si sabes a lagarto." Mumbled the woman, seemingly to herself, before she picked up a rock and tossed it up and down, almost tauntingly as I watched the angry slash across her abdomen just fill in as if she'd never been cut.

"Save your breath lady. I don't speak Spanish." I then started rapidly reloading my gun with more Knockout. If she's a high-speed regenerator, then her body must simply be attacking the Knockout too fast to fully effect her. If I can overload her body, she'd be a sitting duck at least long enough for me to decapitate her. I barely had time to dodge the rock she threw with such force it might as well have been launched from my slingbow. I hissed as it punched through my hood and snapped a few quills.

I returned fire with the full salvo of my revolver as fast as I could pull the trigger, which again caused her to stumble and seem weary for a moment, but she just sighed and rushed me again, so I turned tail and ran away to reload more. Fucking high-level Brutes! "Detén eso ahora. Solo déjame comer." My response to whatever she said was to drop a fogger of Air-No, which still nearly invisible, so I saw her stagger, grasp her throat, but then calmly keep chasing me. What? Does she not need to breathe after all?!

"Dealer!" Tats called to me over the small radio in my mask. Thank goodness she's alive. "Get away from her! She's like a mini-Endbringer!" WHAT THE FUCK?! "Her power is cascading herself across multiple dimensions simultaneously! It's why she is affected for a moment, then just shunts the effect off on another dimension or like with that Air-No just now, replaces whatever part of her is affected with an unaffected part!"

"So how do we kill this bitch then?!" I demanded as I shot Coco more sparingly, watching how each shot made her temporarily dazed, only to recover after a few seconds. It seemed there was a timer on her ability though. The time between impact and recovery from my pellets seemed to be between 2 to 5 seconds, while that huge gash I gave her stomach earlier took somewhere from 8 to 10 seconds. Does the timer get longer the worse the perceived injury is? Or is it the other way?

"The worse the effect, the quicker the recovery. We could try to go for the old thousand cuts method, but I don't think we'd last that long, and she'd recover regardless." Tats mused as I ducked and rolled under another of Coco's frustrated swings at me, using my tail to trip her, which was like trying to trip a compact semi-truck, but she was still sent to the dirt and I ran further away towards the end of the warehouse line. Fuck. There's nobody here at all. I hope some survivors are hiding in places or managed to escape Haven on a Skiff or van.

"Besides, she had the whole standing force of Jeepers here to contend with along with all the non-combatants. If getting assaulted by a damn battalion of lethal low-level Brutes wasn't enough, there's no way we can do this ourselves." I commented as I neared the edge of the Haven pocket dimension, and the moment I hit the invisible solid boundary, I ran up it, and bemusedly watched Coco pass under me and punch through realities like a bullet through paper, only for the hole in the fabric of dimensions to quickly seal itself. "So obviously she's a Breaker with the ability to ignore effects on dimensional space, but also negate effects on herself given time."

"My power agrees, so do I, but there's gotta be a way to stop her. This can't be impossible like it is with the Endbringers. She's just one woman, regardless of her power." Tats insisted as I backed away further, watching Coco walk through the dimensional barrier like it was a privacy curtain.

"Well I'd like some suggestions, because she'll never tire out, and I will." I kept backing away, and Coco seemed to enjoy it, keeping pace casually even if she rubbed her hands together. Then she suddenly ate shit, and cursed as she tried to get up, only to keep jerking uncontrollably and fall back down. "Holy shit…." I turned my head up towards the roof of the nearest warehouse, and standing there in his white renfaire costume was Regent, still sans most of his left arm, glaring intently at Coco as she constantly failed to get full control of her faculties.

"This is causing me a major fucking headache! The bitch's nervous system keeps changing! I can only keep her busy for maybe a half-hour before my head explodes!" Regent screamed surprisingly emotionally. It's my understanding that he's a genuine sociopath, so something must've triggered him if he's so pissed it shows so clearly.

"Tats, Regent can only keep Coco occupied for a while. Any ideas?" I urgently asked as I occasionally shot Coco with more Knockout, but I'm running out of it, I only had enough for 6 or so reloads. I'll have to dip into my Sick pellets and I don't want to see human remains coming from that bitch's enormous maw if they'll even work that much.

"Aside from hope and pray that Overseer gets back with us trying to get the gate on this end turned on with the original crew operating it dead? Not really, just keep stalling." Tats growled, and I hissed at feeling so helpless, looking at our likely death with fear. I'm only alive after tangoing with the bitch because my concoctions were serious enough that it stalled her even if only for a few seconds each time. But if she's susceptible to Master effects, it would explain why she was always partnered with Siguanaba and Cipito in the same city. We can only hope Danny gets here soon.

"Hey fatty!" I blinked and turned around to see Emma Barnes of all people striding towards us, full of confidence and her usual shit-eating smirk on her face, wearing a rather racy tan sweater with a 'boob window' paired with tight jeans and had her long red hair done up in a ponytail. "What's the matter? Did he not like that your man-eating snatch would've ripped off his dick? Or how about the fact your ugly face looks like something Lovecraft shat onto paper?" What? Just...what?

"HOLY SHIT?! What're you doing?!" Regent demanded as he visibly jerked and grabbed his head with his only hand while Coco wordlessly shrieked in fury and redoubled her efforts specifically to attack Emma, who calmly kept smirking and backed away with me as Coco continued to try and fail to even stand up.

"Oh? Did I touch a nerve? No wonder everyone always leaves you. You'll never be good enough for anyone. It's why you're here, wallowing in the dirt instead of doing something worthwhile, like fighting Endbringers. She'd be so ashamed you know, to see what you've become. You're not her Little Rainbow anymore." This time, Emma's words made Coco actually cry a little, screaming in Spanish so fast I couldn't even catch individual words. "When did joining the Maras stop being to protect her? Oh right, when she died because You Weren't There. You've fallen so low she wouldn't even want to see you again if she was still alive."

"Emma, what the fuck are you doing?" I whispered in confusion and curiosity as we continued to back away from the iridescent woman who was starting to tear off her rags and cry as Emma focused intently on her. What is she doing? Seriously? What _is_ her power?

"I'm doing what my power wants me to do. It digs into their past, pulls out the most painful bits, and I can use it to dig at them with words while I pull it to the fore, even tells me what hurts the most. Think of it like the ultimate guilt and depression trip. I never fully used it on Taylor. I wanted her to break out of her shell, not break." Emma whispered back. "So now you're an ugly, man-eating bitch that nobody loves. Good job." Emma shot at Coco, who was practically sobbing quite pitifully into the gravel.

"Whoa. So you're like Tats tuned to 11?" I asked in shock, only for Emma to shake her head, not taking her eyes off of Coco, who seemed to be recovering, but slowly.

"Nope. I can only dig at the bad things, and only things in their memories. Tattletale can use her power for nearly anything, I'm stuck with hurting people emotionally and mentally." Emma muttered, and then blood started trickling down her chin from her nose, and I felt worry start to bloom for the former enemy of Taylor. "So how does it feel? Being the bottom bitch that nobody even wants to fuck? Why haven't you killed yourself yet? Oh right, you're unkillable. So you're stuck being a piece of shit your whole miserable life." Emma snarked, her eyes starting to twitch and her smirk gone into a pained grimace.

And, shockingly, Coco stabbed her hands into her chest, ripping open her ribs, only to be back to normal a few seconds later, sobbing as she tried again, and again. Holy shit. I felt pity for this bitch and I still want her dead. This is such a fucked-up and complicated feeling. Also, Emma had the power to drive people to commit suicide for over a year and a half by now? We're lucky she didn't decide to go Carrie on anybody, because she could make it seem to be the victim's own intentions. But it clearly had a limit, as Emma wobbled and I held her up. "You okay?"

"Fuck no. I've gotta stop before I give myself an aneurism. Hope that bought some time." Emma weakly said, before she turned and left with an exhausted trudge, and almost instantly, Coco was back to screaming in fury as Regent took back over keeping her pinned. In all, she bought maybe five minutes. Those were five minutes we didn't have before.

Damn it.

I feel so useless. If I maybe made something that causes hallucinations? A sort of Fear Toxin? Hm, maybe. Perhaps something that-. "Whoa!" I jumped back as my musing had distracted me and Coco had gotten close enough to nearly swipe at my legs. Whatever, wouldn't matter for this situation. She'd just shrug it off and swap heads with one of her cascades. I shot her, and sighed as I popped open my revolver to load it with Sick pellets now. Not looking forward to seeing the effects.

Then suddenly, before I would've had to find out what regurgitated human remains looks like, Coco suddenly stopped moving. She was breathing, so she was still alive. "This is painful." I heard the woman's voice in English for the first time, and she looked up at me with her hard-to-comprehend iridescent face. I can't keep this up for long. It's like I'm spreading myself thin. Let's get this cannibal to the gate."

"Overseer? Please, say something that lets me know this isn't Coco pulling a fake language barrier." Seriously, I get that Danny's power is all kinds of Bullshit, but to just swap places with Coco in an instant like this? For all I know Danny had just gotten through the gate.

"I still want to kill you for having sex with my daughter on Thanksgiving." I felt a shiver of mortal terror that Coco failed to instill in me, and knew this had to be Mr. Hebert.

"Uh...okay, that's proof enough for me." I then sprinted towards the Bay Platform with the Overseer controlled Coco hot on my heels. When we got there, we found Overseer's body, garbed in his costume of a full helmet and straightjacket screaming obscenities in Spanish while further restrained by Bebop and Rocksteady. "Train?!" I shouted in relief at seeing Trainwreck at the gate console, fine save he was slimmed down. "I thought you died!"

"Nearly did. Bitch hit a little too high though. Did you forget my body doesn't work like most people's?" Trainwreck asked as his damaged voice module whistled with a few exposed pipes clearly having been damaged. "So where are we sending the bitch?"

"Can the gate reach the moon?" I asked, and everyone looked to Trainwreck, who as at least a part of the gate's construction and he shrugged.

"It reaches Karachi, which is basically the other side of the planet, the moon isn't much of a stretch. It'll be hard to aim though."

"Doesn't matter, just aim for the moon, if she misses, she'll just fucking fly off into space anyway." Skidmark commented as he moved to the end of the Bay Platform and began putting up layers upon layers upon layers of his barriers heading towards the gate as Trainwreck worked the console and we moved behind Skidmark.

"Piedad, piedad para mí!" Coco screamed and struggled in Overseer's body, but I don't think any of us understood, or cared. She's slaughtered so many of us today, and earlier than that. She deserves no mercy. We ignored her obvious pleas while Skidmark made the most powerful railgun he could, and stopped at the end of the Bay Platform.

"Sorry Coco. But you brought this on yourself." Tats stated with pity, what did her powers tell her about the woman, who as I looked over, I...almost had a heart attack. On her lower back, just above her buttocks, was a lopsided Omega symbol. Signature of Case 53s. The same people Cauldron has created, that they want me to help rehabilitate for society. How callous of them. This bitch was one of theirs?!

"Is it set?!" Trainwreck's response to Skidmark's question was to fire up the gate, and I moved to restrain Overseer's body while Bebop and Rocksteady picked up Coco by her arms and legs with Overseer setting her face in a determined sneer.

"Toss me good boys, the moment I'm airborne, I'm switching back with her." Overseer warned, and with that, my lieutenants reared back and tossed the naked 10-foot tall iridescent Case 53 woman into the purple-blue barriers, and Coco started screaming in fear from her own mouth as she was launched progressively faster down the line, and through the opaque white film of the portal, which Trainwreck shut down as fast as possible.

We stayed silent for a moment, before we all slumped in various stages of exhaustion and relief, along with sadness and grief. Skidmark was actually the worst in that respect, choking back sobs and punching the gravel with his temporary prosthetic while rubbing his eyes with his good hand. "We've lost too many. Half the crew, at least. How can we recover from this? How do we make their sacrifice worth it?"

I just plopped onto my back. Trying to think of what to do. Firstly, Cauldron now owes us. Big. Whether or not they intended it, one of their little experiments has royally fucked us. I'll see what I can bargain for regarding damages later. Also, yeah, how can we recover from this? Coco just killed over half of the Jeepers, who numbered at around 200 members just a month ago and where whittled down by conflicts since. Behemoth has robbed us of a fifth of our Peepers. Only the Creepers and most of the non-combatants are left untouched.

Then, for the first time in a while, my power slammed my brain so hard I jolted to my feet and looked a bewildered group of my allies and friends in the eyes in turn. "I need a jellyfish."


	55. Chapter 40

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Heat 5.4**_

[Wednesday, December 8, 2010]

Following us having launched Coco at the moon and possibly space beyond, we set upon ourselves the task of gathering the bodies of our fallen and trying to identify them. In the cases where Coco didn't leave the head intact we were forced to use their ID Bracelets or their wallets in the cases they did have them on them. It was grueling work, both physically and emotionally, especially for Danny and Adam, who both worked with a lot of these people for a long time in their respective capacities.

When Taylor eventually came home from Karachi with the rest, she cried all of Sunday night into Monday. Thankfully she had Rachel who, despite not being very social or emotive beyond her dog traits, practically snuggled her the whole time with Rebel. Something about Taylor needing support from her 'pack'. Thankfully they both understood that Pantera and I were busy with the cleanup and memorials. I had my own tears too after all, especially with the people I got to know the names of like Robert.

Once they were all buried and their names etched onto our own memorial wall behind the Bay Platform, an idea that Adam put forward, we got back to work trying to start picking up the pieces. The Merchants were currently crippled. We had no boots on the ground, and Sherrel agreed with Adam and I that we were going to move the remaining Jeepers to the Creepers and Peepers. Tie-Dye wasn't happy about that, but the only reason he was even alive was because he was helping out in Karachi.

As for the MS13 with Coco aside, Miss Militia had put Silbon down with a barrage of artillery fire from outside his range. Thankfully once he died, his recent victims like the PRT HQ almost instantly awoke, but his older victims that hadn't died yet were still in a light coma. Finding out he was also a Case 53 grated on me. Cadejo though, surprisingly, actually fought Reverb off and has taken off, dragging Cipito, Chupacabra, and Siguanaba with him. I vainly hope that they left the city, but I doubt it. To say Reverb is even more pissed off would be understating things too, so I'm hesitant to badger him to arrange a meeting with Cauldron.

Still even so, thankfully Taylor and I had Monday and Tuesday off school to continue to work things out, clean up, and plan for the future. It was common practice in the USA to give underage capes a short buffer to gather themselves before trying to pretend the world wasn't a doomed, hopeless place. That made today the first day back to school, which none of us really wanted to do, but had to in order to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Rumors always sprang up around those who didn't immediately return from an emergency break from school.

So here we are, back at Winslow, which of course decided to hold yet another seminar about the procedures in the case of an Endbringer Attack on the city during school hours. Sure, like we need more fire drills and Endbringer Shelter locations and routes pamphlets. Taylor was still a bit unresponsive even now, so thankfully Emma was willing to help try to get her back to a semblance of normality when she wasn't responding to me during the seminar. Once it was over, we were heading back to class when I felt the familiar sensation of being yanked aside.

I wasn't expecting to face Sophia being so amourous so soon. "You're being...rather touchy-feely rather than punchy-feely." I commented in bemusement to Sophia, who had pulled me aside from the hall into a utility closet for what I expected to be a usual hasty makeout session. However she instead seemed content to press against me, rub her left thigh between my own thighs-oh~ that...that feels so good...both erotically and more...intimately. "Whoa~..." I began sniffing her hair, taking deep whiffs, enjoying her scent as she grinded on me.

"Hm, you like how I smell? Here." Sophia pulled herself up further, pulling my head down into the crook of her neck, and I began to breathe deeper, my heart pounding, my head getting fuzzy. She smells so _good_ …. "Unf...getting frisky?" I'm biting her neck. I lick her to taste. What is happening here? "Damn that blond bitch is smart. Glad she gave me some tips." Wha? Wait….

"Uh...what? Tats told you to try this?" I pull away, I feel dizzy, a bit more than usual. Her smell...holy shit her smell. It's like a cocktail of some sort of fuck-me drugs or something.

"She said violence may get you going, but being more…." I hissed as she slid her hand down the front of my pants, surprisingly past my groin, and then began rubbing my inner thigh. Holy. SHIT. I am BEYOND turned on now for some reason. "Intimate, will get your rocks off. She said since you're a lizard, your thighs are your weak point. You also make really strong smells there that turn girls on or something she said." Sophia held the offending hand to her face and gave a whiff, which made her visibly perk up even more. "Fuck. Thats awesome."

"B-but I'm wearing my collar!" I weakly defended, and Sophia smirked her vicious predatory smile before she suddenly attacked in a firce kiss, grabbing and tugging at me like usual, which I responded to with a snarl and reciprocation, before she broke away and I growled at her giving me blue balls and suddenly turning tail instead of egging me on more.

"Doesn't change what you really are, predator." Sophia leered at me and then huffed. "But time's up. Gotta get to class. Don't be a stranger babe." Sophia then kissed me more intimately and gently than usual but ended with a bite on my lip, before she then left me alone in the closet with a painful pent-up sensation in my groin like usual. Fucking teasing bitch.

I straighten up, but as I'm doing so, I notice a piece of paper in my left pocket that wasn't there before. I took it out in curiosity and opened it. A note, reading that I should meet up with her after school at Fugly Bob's. What? I-is Sophia fucking Hess asking me to go on a date? I mean, I've gone with Pan, Rach, and Taylor, but that ended up so badly, don't I owe them a proper date first? Ugh! I have so much work to do! I can't waste time on teenage socializing!

[Pick Your Poison]

"I can't believe this…." I grumbled to myself as I walked down Lord Street towards the currently being refurbished Boardwalk and the greasy fast-food diner/bar/shack named Fugly Bob's at the edge of the Market by extension. I brought up Sophia's wish for a rendezvous to the others, but instead of being told to tell her to fuck off, I got mixed levels of support.

Taylor, while mildly irritated, sighed and told me to go have fun, that she still needed more time to herself for now as well as 'girl time' with Emma. Rachel shrugged and said she didn't own me, then went back to training Rebel and some strays she'd picked up. Pan wanted to come, but she was rather busy with everything else going on and smoothing Geno's temper. Beyond my girlfriends -god I still feel like a douche having more than one girlfriend- Sherrel and Adam were all for it, saying I needed to be a kid while I could, and that my request for jellyfish would still be a day or so away from being fulfilled. Especially since I requested one specific type.

So here I am, dressed in leathers like I was at the concert but with a grey sweater, looking like a biker with no bike and my spiked collar, heading to Fugly Bob's for a date with the meanest bitch I know besides Rachel, and I really like Rachel more than her. "About damn time!" I looked up with irritation at the impatient Sophia, who was wearing her school clothes, her usual lazy T-shirt, jeans, and vest doing nothing to hide her Surge augmented body but still being decent for the public. "Nice leather." I preened a bit at the up-down scan she gave me in approval.

"Thanks. Figured you'd appreciate it if I dressed up a bit." I also figured she went for the 'bad boy' types anyway, now that the girls have filled me in on the topic. "I'm surprised your part-time job let you have the day off." I commented before we entered the greasy spoon.

"We get benefits like this. Still not on the job until the weekend." Sophia huffed in irritation, running her fingers through her cornrows like she wanted to pull her hair. "Can't stand it. Hate being benched."

"So why call me out? Way I understand it, you go out solo often, so why this instead?" I asked as we moved towards the counter and got behind someone already at the register, so it wouldn't take long to order. Hm, even with my new saurian metabolism, aka: I can eat half a damn cow, I don't think eating a Challenger would be a good idea. Might draw too much attention, and with us being towering slabs of muscle and curves respectively, we already draw enough.

"Because I've got babysitters." Sophia tilted her head towards the street-facing window, and I casually looked outside only to see nothing conspicuous, but didn't comment. "And it's about damn time I actually spent some time with the guy I want beyond a few hot and heavy minutes in a bathroom or closet." I grunted at Sophia punctuating her statement with a hearty pat on the back that made a fairly loud meaty thud. Fuck she packs power in that body, more than a good many other Surge altered folks who weren't _also_ altered by Primal.

"And why do you want me? Seriously I mean." I asked as we approached the cashier. "I'll have two gut busters with fries and a strawberry milkshake." I ordered immediately and looked to Sophia who made a noise of consideration.

"Same, but with a chocolate shake." Sophia stated, and the greasy teenager behind the counter looked a little nauseated at the amount of food we ordered, which was usually enough for four to five people.

"Uh, that'll be 37.76 in total." The scrawny teen guy, probably from Arcadia, informed us, so I took out my wallet and produced two twenties, paying for both of us. Besides, we are on a date. "Your orders will be up in a few minutes."

"Thanks." I idly responded as I dropped the change in a donation box before following Sophia to a corner booth which she gladly scooted into the deepest spot of. "So, back on topic. Why me?" I asked as I sat at the end to still be able to look at her directly.

"Why _not_ you? I mean, fuck dude. You're a walking talking fountain of masculinity ever since you grew a pair and decided to get in my way. I was getting interested even when you were a fatty. Nobody stands up to me like that, and you just kept escalating. I fucking _hate_ you, but I...UGH, I can't explain it. I wanna be with you even though you piss me off and I like it." Sophia snarled to herself and rubbed her forehead. "You make me feel excited, and not just physically."

"So what? I make you happy?" How the fuck does making her hate me make her like me?

"Not yet. You make me excited, that's the closest to happy I get outside of a fight. When I fight you though, it's _better_." Sophia licked her lips and tugged on her shirt collar. "Fuck, just thinking about it is getting me hot. Can we talk about something less serious? Like, what do people on dates talk about?"

"Hobbies, likes and dislikes, hopes and dreams?" I put forward, at least having had some experience thanks to that walk I shared with Taylor.

"Well shit. I don't exactly have anything that's not my part-time job." Sophia huffed as she flicked the salt and pepper shakers. "Well, I like fighting and strong people. I hate weaklings and not doing anything. I hope to kick serious ass and dream about being the top predator." She wears her thoughts on her sleeves doesn't she…? "What about you? What makes a fat ginger that nobody cared about into a fucking hot alpha male?"

I winced. Trying not to think of the lab fire and the utter sensation of hopelessness, that I was betraying someone who _Needed_ me-NO! No. I'm not there. I'm not. I'm not about to die when I'm _Needed_ -QUIT it! I'm not about to Fail someone who _Needed_ me-STOP! Gah! This is the first time I've actually looked back on it with my emotions back! "I Triggered." I growled quietly as I clenched my hands together while glaring at Sophia and I saw her actually wince in sympathy.

"Fuck. Sorry. Well then, what about your hopes, dreams, whatever?" Sophia quickly tried to change the subject, really badly I might add. She doesn't do this often does she? Just talk to people I mean. I sighed and took deep breaths to calm down. Move on. Forget.

"Well, I like helping people and making things. I hate stupidity and racism. I hope to be a good friend and lover, and dream of fixing this fucked-up world." I had some time to consider myself since that walk with Taylor, and I figured delivering it the same way Sophia did would make her open up even more. She's been oddly...hm. "So what brought this all on anyway? Why the change Sophia?"

"What do you mean?" Sophia asked with honest confusion, and I thought of how to phrase it.

"You're not a complete evil bitch anymore. You're still a bitch, but I can get to like you now unlike before." Sophia clearly didn't take umbrage with me outright calling her a bitch, and instead seemed a bit shy all of a sudden, pulling on one of her long braids and looking away.

"Well...I'm sure you know that since you helped out New Wave, Panacea's been seeing a shrink the Protectorate brought in?" I nodded and gestured her to continue. "Well, the shrink, Jessica Yamada. She's fucking good at her job. I mean, the first couple of times I saw her I just sulked on the couch. But after that I got sick of just laying there with her staring for an hour and started talking. It...it helps. A lot. I'm really fucked in the head dude. I get that. But I'm still the top bitch in the room and people better know it. I'm just not gonna go so far I get shot for it anymore."

"Well, that'd be fine with me, if you didn't have competition." I hinted as I rubbed my neck nervously. If Sophia was serious about wanting to get more emotionally involved, she deserved to have full disclosure.

"Hebert? Pfft. I'm fine with you getting some action on the side dude. I can't be there all the time. Besides, since she managed to woman up she's gotten pretty hot, nowhere near Emma though." Sophia made an hourglass gesture with her hands. Okay, is it me, or are all females affected by Surge bisexual? Did it throw off their hormones that much? I mean, testosterone develops muscle better, maybe I better ask around if their preferences have changed?

"Not...just her…." I added on, wriggling in my seat at Sophia's surprised expression.

"...Holy shit. You've got a fucking _harem_?" Sophia squeaked, and I jumped a bit in my seat.

"Shh! Not so loud! I feel like a douchebag already and I'm not the one who encouraged it, though I'm not gonna complain. Well, besides having to consider the feelings of so many significant others." I grumbled before I looked over at the counter. Where's our food?

"Great. Of course the Alpha Predator has several bitches already. Why are you even humoring me then?" Sophia asked in an unnaturally defeated manner. Nope. The bitch doesn't get to be mopey, that's Taylor's thing. She's the adorable brooding one.

"Because I'm a weak guy who can't say no to a beautiful girl." I admitted. Because seriously, if I was an upstanding, strong-willed guy, I would've just had Pan as my girlfriend, let Taylor down gently, distanced myself from Rachel, and told Sophia to fuck off with a splintered rake. Instead here I am, the only male in a web of confusing romantic bullshit. UGH.

"...One, that was disgustingly pathetic and cheesy. Two...thanks." Sophia smiled genuinely, and then scowled as she scooted out of the booth. "Hey! Where's the food we ordered over ten minutes ago?!" I sighed, content to sit back and watch Sophia gut the wimp at the register. Damn, she makes even the act of being a bitch hot. I think she might actually grow on me.

[Pick Your Poison]

The rest of the date with Sophia had gone surprisingly well. We had similar tastes in action films, had a similar sense of grim humor, and even shared an odd love for dipping salty foods into milkshakes. The tonsil hockey at the back of the shadowed booth was also quite enjoyable. Sadly we couldn't make more of the date, since she had PRT goons watching her like hawks, so no going somewhere after or me taking her to Haven to give her a tour and meet the others.

After we finished eating and talking, an hour had gone by, so we swapped numbers and parted pleasantly. I can't believe I'm thinking this, but I'm looking forward to seeing Sophia again. My phone buzzed only 20 minutes after I left Bob's, and I checked it only to immediately snap my phone shut at the picture she texted me. Fuck. Do I respond? I mean, she just texted me a photo of her topless in the mirror of a bedroom and smirking viciously. My phone buzzed again, and I hesitantly opened my phone, only to snap it back shut. Damn, stupid, sexy, _bitch_.

Am I going to have a ton of fap material soon? Another buzz. I'm not checking that. I ignored the intermittent buzzing from my phone as I backtracked towards Haven, using my superhuman speed to cut through alleys and hopefully throw off any PRT watchers who thought I was suspicious or noticed I was on an actual date with their Ward despite her picking the most hidden seat in the place. No way of knowing if a plainclothes officer went in to watch us anyway.

Regardless of all this, my phone must've buzzed at least a dozen or so times before it finally stopped on the way to Haven. Once there I took out my phone to call on a van, and choked at the last photo she sent. I wiped my brow and I ardently resisted the powerful urge to scroll up and instead called on a van. Once in, I hurriedly walked towards my lab/apartment, stormed up the stairs, and nearly got past Taylor and Emma who were on the couch. "So how'd it go?"

I froze. I mean, I was given permission, but how do I go about this? "Uh...really well, honestly. Almost too well." I gulped and tugged on the collar of my sweater, before I took out my phone and nervously handed it to Emma. "Ch-check the texts...I haven't had the guts to look at them all." I fidgeted, and couldn't stand it anymore, so I started getting my vest and sweater off, a bit hard to work past a spiked collar, but harder to work past quills.

"OH MY GAWD! Soph you sexy bold bitch! Pic sexting after the first date?! She's practically masturbating! I think she did!" Emma declared with her face matching her hair in color and licking her lips as Taylor gawked at my phone next to her.

"Whoa! She's got a fucking washboard for a stomach! And did she…?" Taylor's face quickly matched Emma's, and she even seemed to shimmy in her seat a bit.

"Crack a walnut with her ass and then crush a watermelon with her thighs, and follow with a shot of her in a bubble bath? Fuck yeah! Andrew, you've gotta respond to this!" Emma was ecstatic, and I wasn't sure that was a good thing.

"W-what?! H-how?!" I tugged on my false hair, fretting, nervous.

"Obviously you pic sext back! Strip!" Emma ordered excitedly and moved towards me, only for Taylor to grab her arm.

"Whoa, whoa, no! Down girl! Not yours." Taylor possessively stated, before getting up. "Now then. Strip!" Taylor ordered of me instead with matching glee to Emma. "I wanna help, this seems stupid fun!"

"I'm not just some piece of meat!" I weakly defended, backing away from the two hungry-eyed girls.

"Andrew, you're one of the hottest guys around now that you've dropped a hundred pounds of fat and gained two hundred pounds of muscle. My friend has sent full-blown _porn_ to you and you're gonna damn well reciprocate!" Emma demanded, and Taylor nodded eagerly, clearly excited just to participate in this ridiculous event.

"...Fine…." I'm so pathetic. I can't withstand one of my girlfriends demanding something, even if it's something so demeaning and invasive.

"Besides, I'm gonna copy every picture we take and make an album in case you're away for a while." Taylor declared, and then I suddenly find myself in my boxers as she had approached and pantsed me in a disturbingly smooth motion, before tugging my collar off, making me squawk in indignation as my scaly self appeared. Then they herded me towards the bedroom. What is wrong with my life?!


	56. Interlude 5b

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Pathfinder**_

[Wednesday, December 8, 2010]

"Are you sure you don't want to go home?" Hannah asked of her, for possibly the tenth time, getting Missy Biron to sigh at her well-meaning superior's needling.

"I'm sure. There's nothing to really go home to anyway." Missy grumbled from the passenger seat of Hannah's civilian vehicle, a normal plain white sedan that barely got any use. So little use in fact, that it still had that unpleasant factory-fresh new car smell. "Can't I go on patrol though? All this inaction since we dealt with Silbón is getting to me."

"Director Piggot's orders once she awoke were very clear Vista. We're in a holding pattern to recover. You should be taking every opportunity to relax that you can, which is why I'm so confused you called me to take you to the PRT instead of just going home." Hannah needled again, and Missy groaned.

"You know what my home life is like. I'd get no rest there." Missy's statement was not exaggerated. "I won't get much at the Wards HQ, but I'll be more relaxed with my friends."

"Well, only Lily and Weld are on base right now, but that's because they don't know more people in town yet." Hannah stated, getting Missy to cheer up a bit.

Lily was a nice girl, fun too. Compared to Sophia she's a saint, but then that would be cruel to Sophia. Ever since Winslow got sabotaged with that Surge stuff and she's been getting therapy like the rest of them, she's calmed down a good bit. She's still mean, but at least it's moderated compared to before. That said, Lily was a good friend already, but Missy felt an odd sort of wistfulness from the older girl, and she couldn't help feeling grossed out at how Lily ogles Sophia. Nothing against her tastes, but Missy hoped the girl wouldn't get too close to the brute.

As for Weld, he was such a nice guy. Also, his body, meow. Sure, he wasn't Dean, but Weld was a calm and collected person, mature for his assumed age of under 18. And he was a literal living metal sculpture of male perfection. Me. Yow. Missy felt a bit embarrassed, but she just turned 13 in November, and all sorts of awkward teenager things were happening to her. Such as fawning over guys because they were attractive outwardly as well as in personality.

"Missy? Are you alright?" At Hannah's questioning, Missy snapped out of her daydreaming and felt a little flushed at realizing she was daydreaming about someone other than Dean.

"Uh, yeah! I'm fine! Just wondering when we'll all be like Sophia." Big. Strong. Curvy. Missy felt so jealous when Sophia showed up looking like she stole the puberty fairy's magic dust. At least it really was magic dust, dust Missy was very hopeful to get her hands on.

"I'd rather we never do, but the chain of command has given the okay and we're already getting ready to use the captured Surge. But even so you won't be getting any young lady." Hannah declared as she opened her door since they'd arrived in the PRT's underground parking garage, and Missy gawked at the patriotic heroine in shock before she quickly jumped out as well.

"What do you mean?! Sophia's already a buff olympic weightlifter! Why can't we get a boost too?!" Missy was looking forward to it! She wanted it so bad! She'd been looking up her medical records and how people develop, and she was crushed to realize that at her tender age of 13, of barely reaching 5 feet, that she might never get any taller! She could be stuck a munchkin with no boobs! How could she get Dean's attention then?!

"Missy. Sophia was a victim of a biological attack. She didn't have a choice. We're not going to do the same as Dealer and expose underage children to what is essentially a gene mod." Hannah declared severely, but Missy wasn't having it.

"I don't wanna be tiny forever! Even if it's just a small bit, let me have some so I can get at least a foot taller!" Missy pleaded, but Hannah just crossed her arms under her already fairly generous bust, which irritated Missy more. Why should _she_ get bigger boobs?! She already had a chest and body to be proud of!

"No Missy. This was decided by Colin and the Director, as well as more or less decided for us anyway by the Youth Guard. Just don't worry about things like this Missy. You'll grow up, you're still young." Hannah's words were true, somewhat, but they didn't hold the same value that they did a couple years ago.

"Not _that_ young!" Missy knew she wouldn't be able to sway Hannah, this had rapidly devolved into an old argument that she never won before, and wasn't about to now. In a fit, she used her power to shrink the distance between her and the garage elevator, crossed the distance in a single step, entered her passcode, and stepped into the tinkertech elevator before Hannah could protest beyond a couple words Missy couldn't hear. "Stupid adults. Making decisions for us as usual." Making decisions for _her_ as usual.

Missy shimmied her backpack as she adjusted her purple sweater sleeves in the warmer atmosphere of the elevator, and fluffed her green skirt before it opened into the pristine plain white hall leading to the Tower. The Wards HQ was fairly ironically named since the so-called Tower was barely a few floors higher than the rest of the PRT building, which itself wasn't that tall despite being in Downtown. Something about it being a defunct BBPD building before being repurposed and refurbished for the PRT. With the Rig defunct, it was currently quite crowded.

Missy's musings on the irony of her workplace aside, she approached the door and put her eyes to the retinal scanner. After a few chirps it beeped in approval and the seamless wall capping the 'end' of the hall interleaved open to reveal-WHO IS THAT?! "Guys! Why didn't you turn on the visitor warning?!" Missy screeched, her voice cracking in her panic as she spun around and fished in her skirt pocket for her emergency domino mask.

"Sorry Vista! It was really sudden and we didn't get much warning. We also didn't hear anything about anyone else coming today." Lily, currently Flechette in her skintight, deep purple costume with a visor, quiver, and narrow platinum-white armor panels that flared out at the upper edges and tapered at the bottom, kinda like an arrow.

"Yes, we're sorry Vista. I'm sorry for the oversight." Weld apologized earnestly, getting Missy to promptly feel a little warm from his somewhat resonating voice. His metal body made his speech a little tinny or resonating depending on what metal he's using for his larynx at the time, and this time it was like he was speaking through a brass tuba somehow. That and the glimpse she caught before whirling around was he was just wearing his usual sleeveless jersey, basketball shorts, and his plastic headphones. Mm, those arms of adonis….

"I-it's fine! He was looking the other way anyhow, so he didn't see anything." Vista admitted as she put the lightly adhesive domino mask over her eyes, and turned around to get a good look at the visitor. He was about her age she guessed. About her height actually. Which, again, didn't give her confidence since he definitely was still growing. He was wearing a visitor's domino mask, which meant he was probably a cape, and his clothes were a bit...colorful.

"Um...hi! I'm, uh, Hourglass! Nice to meet you!" The admittedly scrawny tan brown-haired brown-eyed boy greeted as he tugged nervously on the hem of his red, purple, and green patterned sweater, shifting his feet and showing that his sneakers were a little worn out and oversized with how they visibly hung on his ankles. Also he was wearing sweatpants. Don't get her wrong, Missy had nothing against sweatpants, but when they were dyed green and blue she had a bit of an issue with them. Was he colorblind?

"Nice to meet you too Hourglass. You here to join the Wards?" Vista asked as she entered the common room and dumped her backpack on one of the recliners.

"Um, I hope? My parents don't really trust the government, especially since we lived in what was Empire territory for a long time." At Hourglass's comment, Missy withheld a wince. He clearly wasn't from a 'white' family considering his lightly tanned skin, so it must've been really hard on his family to have lived in Nazi turf.

"Sorry to hear that. So what do you do?" Vista shifted focus as she sat on the couch, which seemed to at least encourage the boy to sit in a recliner facing her while Lily and Weld joined her, even if Weld did sink rather deeply into the reinforced furniture.

"I, uh, steal time." Hourglass nervously informed, getting Missy to blink in surprise. "I, um, from what those doctors downstairs said, I'm a Grab-Bag cape."

"So...how does that come together?" Vista asked curiously, and Lily leaned over towards her as Hourglass suddenly seemed very sad.

"He triggered when he and his family were about to be killed by Reaver. Clockblocker and...Velocity were nearby." Lily whispered, getting Missy's eyes to widen and feel a sharp pang of sadness herself. That meant Hourglass was the one who killed Reaver in the reports of a 'fresh trigger' killing the Teeth parahuman, just minutes before Robin ran to support Lily's group upon them recognizing a new villain threat and was killed by Coco which Lily was forced to see.

This meant that Hourglass had 'pinged' off of Reaver, Dennis and Robin. It wasn't common knowledge, but it was evidenced that Grab-Bag capes get an assortment of powers related to the powers of nearby parahumans or group Triggers. Reaver's power was some sort of Shaker/Breaker effect that weakened things around him and strengthened himself. That combined with Clockblocker's Striker-based time power and the late Velocity's personal sort of time-acceleration/spacial-distorting Breaker effect and whatever spin on it Hourglass's power decided to add, he was potentially really powerful.

"So did you do power testing then?" Vista asked in curiosity, trying not to dwell on the fact that this boy her age had _killed_ someone during his Trigger Event to protect his family, or that in some twisted way, he was possibly some sort of spiritual successor to Velocity depending on his powers.

"Yeah! It was fun! I ran around, they tried shooting me with paintballs and water guns, I went through an obstacle course-." Whoa. Floodgates open! Missy was having a bit of trouble understanding Hourglass now that she touched a subject he was excited about. Also his speech was interspersed with weird words or even words in a language she couldn't place. "-So it turns out I'm really, _really_ fast! I mean, I can't tell when I'm making everything so slow around me, but-."

"Whoa, whoa! Slow down! I barely even got half of that. Could you explain your powers more slowly?" Was he actually speeding himself up already? Was that why she couldn't understand him?

"Oh, uh, sorry. Um...basically, I slow everything around me for ten feet down, and I get faster in, um, verse? Inverse? Uh, I get faster as everything gets slower, and the faster I am, the harder I hit." Hourglass tried to explain, and Vista had to gawk a bit. That was basically the exact opposite of how Velocity's power had worked. The faster Velocity went, the less he could affect the world around him, but with Reaver's power combined with Clock's power mixed in and whatever his main power is, it seemed his powers synergized!

"You have no idea how rare you are Hourglass." Lily commented in a tone approaching a bit of awe. "Most Grab-Bags just have a bunch of weak powers that don't really have much or anything to do with each other. But all your powers work together?"

"Uh, yeah. I can use each power separately, but when I combine them, I get a huge rush! Like drinking an energy drink!" Hourglass gushed as he bounced in his chair. His excitement was interrupted when the visitor alarm sounded. "Uh, what's that?"

"That's the visitor alarm. It lets us know we're having a visitor who doesn't know us personally and gives us a minute to mask up." Weld informed and then added a chuckle which sent tingles down Missy's spine. "Not that I can or need to, it's a courtesy to us either way." With that explained, the door soon opened and revealed a very greasy looking man of incredible height and bulk, but his gut told his size and muscles weren't due to Surge. His brown eyes were severe and his slick black hair clashed with his casual T-shirt and jeans, and Miss Militia looked as if she was restraining striking him from behind she was so visibly furious.

"Take that thing off your face Lolea, you're part of their little club now." The rough and mean-looking man declared with all the derision and dislike as if he'd been talking to an ugly stray dog rather than who Missy assumed was his son. "You lot take care of my boy or I'll break you." The man growled at Miss Militia, who merely nodded, and he turned to storm out with all the elegance of a raging bull. Despite the incredibly off-putting display though, Lolea as he was revealed, cheered as if he'd been told it was Christmas already and peeled off his mask.

"I'm Lolea Marks! I'm so happy to be working with you!" Lolea declared, hopping out of his seat and reaching a hand out to Missy, who hesitated from bemusement before she took off her mask and smiled back just as excitedly. He may not be a girl, but at least he was her age.

"Missy Biron! If you move fast and mess with time, you and I are gonna be an epic team!" Missy could see it now. Her manipulating the battlefield and Lolea using his power to quickly shut down all resistance with their synergy making everyone else helpless! It'll be even better than when she did training with Robin, as much as it hurt to admit such.

"So what was that about?" Lily asked of Militia, who had entered the common room and seemed to be calming down.

"That... _man_ is perhaps the most backwards, misogynistic, and _demanding_ person I've had the utter displeasure to talk to. Lolea, you can stay here as long as you want." Militia declared insistently, and Lolea seemed even happier. What sort of _environment_ was Lolea subjected to?!

"So he's disowned me? Yes! This is the best day ever!" Lolea's remark disturbed Missy incredibly. Didn't he Trigger to protect his family? Why would his father disown him after he saved their lives?!

"Not so much disowned as he's decided to hand custody over to the State." Militia weakly tried to soften the matter before she lowered her mask. "Well then Lolea, I'm Hannah. Welcome to the family." Lolea cheered again before rushing and hugging Hannah, who looked disturbed but accepting as she hugged him back, all while Missy couldn't process this.

"Wait, what is going on here?! Lolea, Hannah, just...what?!" Missy couldn't comprehend someone being **HAPPY** their _family just fell apart_ -why is Hannah hugging her? Why is she hyperventilating? Can't breathe. CAN'T BREATHE! _**OH GOD WHY-?!**_

"Breathe Missy! Breathe! Calm down!" Hannah urged fiercely as she squeezed the young girl tightly while Missy clutched onto her, choking back sobs. She's not a little girl. She's not a baby! She tried pushing Hannah away, but couldn't with her weak little arms. Her power couldn't help her get distance due to the Manton limit on her power. "Shh, it's okay Missy. We're all here." Hannah gently soothed as she rocked Missy back and forth, and she couldn't help it, crying quietly as she tried not to focus on what set her off, trying to get her mind off of it.

"What's wrong? Did I do something?" Lolea worriedly asked, but Missy was too busy burying her face in Hannah's comforting bosom. Something her own mother never really did for her.

"No. It's nothing you did. Lily, Weld, go give Lolea the full tour." Hannah ordered, and the two older teens guided Lolea away. Once alone, and Missy had managed to calm down enough, Hannah released her. "Are you feeling any better?"

"No! How can he be happy! How is he so overjoyed about something that made _me_ …." Missy shuddered, trying not to think about it. Unicorns. Kittens. Puppies. That Tiny Simurgh Friendbringer that wants to be everyone's friend meme even. Whatever to distract.

"Missy. Lolea's family is a very strict Romani family from Europe. They may have immigrated here in his grandfather's time, but Romanis are rigid to their beliefs and culture. That includes their religion, and we all know how cruel die-hard Christians are to Parahumans." Hannah's explanation helped ease Missy's anxiety. "To be honest, I'm surprised his father even cared once his son became what amounts in their household to be a 'demon' to arrange proper care with us rather than throw him to the wolves. And threaten us on top of it."

"Shame there can't be more accepting Christians like the group New Haven down south." Missy muttered. She hated religion, it just made things worse for a lot of people. Die-hard Christians and Catholics declare Parahumans to be agents of the devil, fanatics declare they're agents of heaven or venerate Scion as a god. Both extremes just caused more suffering, and the less said about The Fallen the better. Then there's the rare ones like New Haven who have managed to carve out a place for themselves in temperance and acceptance. They were the exception.

"Indeed. Will you be fine with Lolea?" Hannah asked gently, and Missy nodded her head. If he was happy to get away from a stifling environment, then she wasn't going to let it get to her. Besides, he was fun. "Good. I hope you'll be able to make him feel welcome."

"I'd be able to do it better if I was taller than him." Missy bitterly stated, and Hannah sighed as she rubbed her forehead.

"It's out of my hands even if I wanted to change their minds Missy. If Dealer is somehow still around when you're older, or we have safe stores of his Surge then, you could still use it." Hannah insisted, and Missy weakly sighed in defeat.

"Fine. I'll stay your PR-friendly little dwarf." Missy grumbled, getting Hannah to sigh again, and then she went to go find Lolea and likely keep orienting him to his new environment. Missy meanwhile went to the couch and slumped into it. She was planning to watch something on TV when her PRT phone buzzed. She checked it and saw it was an announcement about the team utilizing the captured Surge, but saying only the Protectorate was to have access. Great. As if she needed to be reminded. Probably the only reason they're hearing about it this way is because she made a stink of it to Hannah.

She turned off her PRT phone, only to get a buzz from her personal phone. Checking it, she got a text from Sophia of all people. Huh? She has the same opinion as her? The text was basically her claiming this was unfair to the team, that she shouldn't be the only one to benefit. Huh. Missy didn't take Sophia for a team player, but again that was unfair to her since she was trying to improve.

Then she got another text. This one addressed to her personally since it started with 'Hey Munchkin' which irritated Missy, but it was still better than the former titles of Brat or Runt she used to have. Also Sophia used it affectionately, so she could forgive it.

As she read down, her eyes widened, her palms got a bit sweaty and her heart sped up. Sophia still had access to Surge?! How?! Well, she does go to Winslow, maybe she has some of the tainted water bottled or something? Was that why she was still getting more buff after the school was cleaned? Missy frantically texted back, and got a response that yes, Sophia bottled some of the water once she realized why she was bulking up so fast, that she had cases of it but wasn't getting any bigger now, so she figured the team could benefit on the sly.

Missy couldn't have pleaded for some faster, promising favors, _anything_ to get tall, to get _big_ , which Sophia agreed to. Missy looked down at her petite, childish body. A body she always felt was wrong for her. She was the most mature person here, her body should match! When Sophia agreed and said it would have to be gradual, to hide it as being a natural growth spurt, she agreed. Missy giggled, kicking her feet. Soon she'd be able to look Dean in the eye easier. Especially since he and Vicky had gotten more intimate when she went full amazon princess. Hopefully she'd get even taller, and bustier! Missy giggled at the thought, daydreaming.


	57. Chapter 41

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Heat 5.5**_

[Saturday, December 11, 2010]

After the embarrassing photoshoot of my own solo porn act -apparently I had to do 24 pictures because Sophia sent me 24 pictures- I felt so violated that I took a long cold shower to ruminate on how unfair my life seemed. Sure, several hot girls all want me, but they're so pushy! I mean, once Pan and Rach found out, Pan immediately demanded copies of both mine and Sophia's pictures, while Bitch commented that she doesn't need pictures to masturbate to me. Sure, ego-boosting, but goddamnit girls! I'm just a guy! I'm not some sex god or something! We've barely even done anything in that vein! I'm terrified they're expecting too much of me.

My being sexually objectified aside, during the embarrassing and rather erotic situation, Sophia asked for a few cases of bottled water spiked with the same Surge used on Winslow. Her reason was interesting, so I agreed. Also the following days at school were much more enjoyable because Sophia, while still insatiable, was far happier than before and was even looking forward to scheduling another date for Sunday, this time with the other girls using Emma as a liaison between them. Of course, I was out of the loop. Sigh, such is the fate of a Harem Protagonist. Er, or a Reverse Harem piece. I still think Pan is the one at fault for all of this.

Besides that, nothing has really happened. MS13 is still incognito, the Bloods have established themselves a bit more in south Brockton but haven't overtly announced the presence of any Capes, and the Protectorate is still giving us a break and patrolling with us, specifically Taylor and Danny to try and find out where they're hiding. Truce-Breakers don't get courtesy after all, and both Overseer and Hive -Taylor was okay with the name picked by the PRT- aren't registered with us so they're clearly trying to poach the Heberts before they end up with us.

That said, all I've been able to do is shore up my resources a bit, prepare a vat as a saltwater aquarium, and grumble about Cauldron in private. When I asked Reverb to arrange a meeting so I could voice my displeasure with their dumbass methods with their test subjects and bargain for recompense, he told me Contessa said to wait, that I already had something on the way, and to watch the local news today at 6pm.

I'm actually dreading that. I may like Contessa, but she's still spooky.

Aside from that though, I was called by Number Man and he ordered seven canisters of Surge, a whole travel case of Stim which amounted to around 10 syringes, same for Addictol, and even ordered 3 canisters of blank Primal, as well as a gallon of Mannus. The end cost of his order was 158,000 dollars, and he still told me I was undercharging him. Good grief. I can buy a pretty nice house with that! How is that still shorting myself?! Oh well, whatever. I made his order within a half-hour and using a Door, dropped it off in that lab I met Contessa at his request-.

"Yo Deal! Those guys Sherrel sent fishing are back." Bebop hollered from through the repaired main warehouse doors before he flung them open with an impressive feat of strength, sliding them so hard into the ends of their tracks that they caused a deafening crash. Thankfully I'd just put the last item -the paint bucket of Mannus- through the Door and it collapsed hopefully before he saw it. Geez, that was close. Has he been hitting Surge and working out? Because those bay doors are really heavy, even for a good number of us.

"Damn it Bebop! If I had any acoustically sensitive projects going that would've set them off!" I snarled, Bebop was so irreverent these days. I miss how he used to be, before the brain trauma. "But they're here?" I rhetorically asked as I watched a Skiff back into my lab through the doors, soon hovering over the vats and I moved to point out the aquarium. "This one here!" I watched in anticipation and felt some glee as the side door opened up and watched as the crew inside, all wearing comfortable clothing and looking fairly pleased, turned over a bathtub practically bursting with Portuguese Man-of-Wars into the aquarium vat.

Said aquarium was already heated to a sub-tropical warmth and filled with live small fish for any of the surviving Siphonophorae to feed off of. I didn't need any alive, but it would be nice to have something to justify my lab smelling like the ocean for so long. Also, I didn't even get to enjoy my pet turtles, so I'm hoping to have at least something besides tinkering and my girlfriends to think about. "Thanks for the trip boss! We caught a ton of fish while we were at it!" Called down one of the guys before they closed the door. Sherrel said she specifically sent crew members who liked fishing, so they could turn the fetch job into a short break.

"Sorry Deal, figured you'd want them in quick." Bebop sheepishly scratched the back of his head as the Skiff hovered back out. "So why'd you want jellyfish?" Bebop asked as he moved to one of the doors and started pulling it back out of the wall. Thankfully the tracks didn't break.

"To be perfectly frank, these aren't True Jellyfish. Portuguese Man-of-Wars are actually a colonial organism made of thousands of zooids all working together to…." I paused as I'd looked back at Bebop to see a vacant glaze in his eyes, so I sighed. "It's made of a lot of animals, not just one."

"Whoa, really? That's freaky." Bebop commented as he moved to the other door and pulled it closed as well.

"Freaky enough that my power pinged on it being a possible answer to an idea it shoved at me." I rubbed my hands together in anticipation before I went over to my work table to look for long-sleeved rubber gloves I've had waiting for this. I may be fine if stung by the floating critter's stingers, but I'd rather not be burned by chemicals I'm trying to examine and maybe replicate.

"Uh...what idea?" Bebop questioned as he approached, dusting off his biker clothes.

"Well, it's partially reliant on getting some input and help from Leet, so I want to at least make sure it will-." I was interrupted by a loud squeak before being pounced on from practically overhead, making me stumble as Bebop cackled in amusement. "Mouph! Git offa meh!" I pushed the heavy grey mouse-woman off of me, and I took some calming breaths as the 6'7" muscular rodent equally as proportioned as Pan and Bitch shimmied in place excitedly. Thankfully I hadn't had to make her breast-growth formula to satisfy her.

"Thank you so much! It's all working out so well!" Mouse Protector, or Katherine as she'd told me once she'd taken Primal Thursday, was wearing black pants with a stretched-out grey graphic shirt of her old appearance. Her eyes were still an expressive green and her big saucer-sized ears were constantly moving in her joy. Her conical mousy face was still something to get used to. Not to mention her long prehensile hairless tail which flicked about constantly.

"What is?" I asked curiously as I went back to looking for my gloves. Ah, there they are.

"My PR! I mean, I was already a sexy but spunky young woman, but now I'm a bodacious yet adorable rodent! I appeal to such a wide audience apparently that I got an even bigger offer from my sponsors!" MP jumped around in joy, getting Bebop to stare at her bouncing chest before I tapped his nose and shook my head, to which he sheepishly grinned.

"That's great. But how're you going to hide the Guise Watch we gave you from your Hero pals?" Yeah, Leet finished the Guise Watch a few days ago. I'm sticking to my collar though. It's mine.

"I'm not. At least not from Militia. She and I go back to the start of the Wards. Don't worry your head about it though, if someone else catch's on, I'll tell them I got it from Toybox." MP held up her left wrist showing a boxy high-tech touch-screen watch like the ones the phone companies are peddling these days. "They outsource for things they can't supply directly, so it'd pass."

"Hm, good to know." So that's why Doctor Mother said me selling to Toybox made sense as a plausible excuse. "Now then, if that's all MP, I've got to get to work on my next project now that I finally have the resources to-."

"There you are! I told you to meet me in the cafeteria ten minutes ago!" Amy shouted as she burst in through the smaller normal door facing the trolley.

"Sorry~! But I wanted to thank Deal before I met up with you." MP apologized without really meaning it. I rolled my eyes as I pulled up my bicep-length rubber gloves which had sheathes for my claws in the fingers.

"Yeah, he's a cool guy, but he's already got too many hot babes on his tail as it stands Mouse, you shouldn't be trying to get in his pants." I choked at Amy's words. I mean, I know she's hitting on me, but seriously, I have enough women! One was enough!

"Aw, but he's so fun to tease and toy with." MP pouted, to which I sighed and rubbed my temples while Bebop heartlessly cackled at my misfortune. "But anyway, how's the talk of me joining New Wave going?" This got my attention. New Wave was temporarily bunking here since their homes were destroyed by Coco and Silbon and they've lost faith in the safety of the Protectorate with the PRT and PHQ getting assaulted as well. Us being assaulted wasn't much better, but the fact we actually dealt with Coco made the team of heroes figure we were the safest option with Cadejo and the others still at large.

"It's kinda mixed, since you can still have a secret identity with that fancy watch, but Aunt Sara is all for it." Amy shrugged as she and MP started to leave my lab. "I'm in favor too, so don't worry too much. Mom's the only one really protesting, but even she's not adamant about that."

"Aw, thanks Amy. Also, I feel your eyes going for my tits. You can cop a feel if you want~." MP purred at the biokinetic, who choked and sputtered as they left my lab, bewildered at this development.

"That is just too hot to be fair." Bebop commented, before snorting through his snout. "Well, I've gotta go exercise. Rock and I have been making gains so we're more reliable the next time a major scrap goes down." Bebop informed me with a flex of his arms before following after the heroes.

"...Well, that happened. At least I can finally get to work." I commented to myself, then looked around, waiting for Murphy to decide to put his foot in the door. When nothing happened for a few seconds, I sighed in relief, then moved to the aquarium. "Well now, looks like I have a couple of pets." Two of the Man-of-Wars had ensnared a fish each and were slowly and quite cruelly killing their prey with their toxic tendrils.

Appreciating the cruelty of nature for a minute, I then moved on to taking one of the several dead siphonophorae in my hands, having to bundle up the incredible length of tendrils while holding the pneumatophore, or air sack away from the knot of dactylozooids aka; tentacles. I then fell into a fugue, my curiosity and need to tinker finally getting some exercise. This was fascinating. The way each zooid was a separate entity, yet entirely reliant on it's fellow zooids for survival was incredible, and filled with astounding potential.

With this, the concept that my power stabbed into my brain after we dealt with Coco is much more plausible. I just need to find the gonozooids which are responsible for reproduction first. Of course, working with a creature with such potent nematocysts or 'stinging cells' was a literal pain. I'm wearing gloves and just a brief contact with my exposed abs from a tendril flicking sent me reeling with a hiss. Goddamn that is potent, and I've got the benefit of scales and Balcoat.

Wiser, I put on a thick painter's smock and got back to work finding and dissecting the gonozooids, because I needed to-. "Yo Deal!" I accidentally stabbed the gonozooid I was going to surgically remove with my scalpel, and snarled as I rounded on the person who-. "Whoa! Chill bro! Didn't mean to walk in on you in the zone!" Leet declared frantically from his spot by the door, Uber having followed in. The two had bulked up to a respectable 6'3" and 6'5" with the former being wiry and the latter being more broad in the shoulders. "What're you up to? I thought you didn't care for wetwork."

"I don't." At least not really. This is necessary though, I need a fresh polyp at the very start of its life cycle to-. "Wait a second...hey, we haven't gotten around to the biotinkering you wanted to get to." I grinned ferally, feeling excitement. "If you don't mind helping me with my work, I'll gladly help you with yours."

"Whoa, back up a sec." Uber put a hand on Leet's shoulder, because Leet seemed about as excited as I was at the prospect of working together on something. But then again, the fact they were in casual clothes and domino masks caught up with me, and that meant they weren't here on their kind of business, even if their web show was a few weeks behind their update schedule. "We're here because a VI Leet made to look for info involving various things has caught wind of some seriously disturbing stuff, and we wanted to tell you first."

"Uh...what could it be that involves…." Oh god. Is this something to do with whatever Contessa wanted me to see at 6 on the news? But if they're so serious about it, it can't be good, which I assumed was what Contessa meant by this being reimbursement for being wronged.

"It _might_ involve you." Leet stressed as he looked to his larger companion. "We don't have proof yet. Just that there is a huge influx of PRT agents coming into town today. All of them are also escorting Chief Director Rebecca Costa-Brown of the PRT for some sort of announcement." Leet's words got me feeling panicked. The _Chief Director_?! I know Cauldron has connections, you can't be the parahuman Illuminati without them, but the head of the government's organization that deals with parahumans is in their pocket? No. Can't assume anything Andrew. Calm.

"Well, why do you think it involves me? Does it mention me or the gang in any way?" I probed, only to get a shrug from the two gamers.

"Nope. But you're the biggest thing in town right now, so you're the most likely thing they're going to address." Uber informed me, and I rubbed my temples in anxiety. Why do I have to be such a big shot? I just make life smaller than the naked eye can see do amazing things. The irony is not lost on me.

"Thanks, I guess. What time is it?" I dug around for my phone, and I felt my heart jump into my throat at seeing it was 5:57. "Just in time for the 6 O'clock news. Maybe that'll mention something." I ran for the stairs, Uber and Leet following me up to my apartment, which recently got a new entertainment system. "Thanks for this setup Leet."

"It's cool. Still smaller than ours. Have you been trying out any games?" Leet asked as he plopped onto my comfy microfiber grey couch along with Uber, while I belatedly shucked my slimy gloves onto the counter and turned on the 50" flatscreen TV, quickly flipping the channel 5 for the local news station.

"Haven't had the time, sorry. But Taylor's taken a liking to them." She actually did it out of boredom and a desire to distract herself from the stress of the Protectorate constantly trying to pitch membership to her. She really liked Oblivion, but said the Argonians in the game didn't do me justice.

"That's great to hear even so. I suggest you go for some simple games to start if you don't like complicated stories or controls." Uber replied before we turned our attention to news to see it was broadcasting live. The PRT must really be saying something important if they've arranged it to be announced without any editing. I had to muse on how intimidating the PRT building was, all glass and iron bars. The stage out front was at just the right height for the huge winged tower logo of the PRT on the front of the building to be prominent. Public Relations Team for sure.

Before long, Director Piggot, the overweight and, oh gosh, she looks like she's going to fucking keel over on the stage! She's visibly using her cane as a crutch to even stand, what is she doing in office? The unhealthily pale woman made it to the podium, and managed to draw herself up and look as severe as any person I've ever seen. Whatever's ailing her, she clearly is not letting it stop her from doing her job, even if it looks like she'd rather suck on a lemon than whatever the announcement is about.

"Good citizens of Brockton Bay. I have called you here today to announce an action plan that the entirety of the Parahuman Response Team has decided to move forward with in regards to Independent Heroes, Rogues, Mercenaries, and Vigilantes. I humbly hand over this stage to Chief Director Costa-Brown, head of the PRT and the Los Angeles branch of the PRT." Emily Piggot then managed to back away as a tall and impressively healthy woman for her supposed middle-age. Her dark hair was without any grey, I could tell her face wasn't actually weathered as much as it normally would be for a woman her age, and her body frame….

"Greetings Brockton Bay." THAT FUCKING BITCH?! Her voice! Her body frame, the height. THE FUCKING HAIR! How have people not noticed that Alexandria is the head of both the Protectorate AND the PRT?! The realization had me stumble back into my recliner, rubbing my throat at the phantom sensation of immutably powerful fingers crushing my trachea and I barely kept calm enough to avoid more signs of fear and outrage to show. "I have come here today to announce a shift in paradigm for how we will handle Parahuman organizations and individuals."

"Changing paradigm? That does not sound good." Uber muttered worriedly, and I nodded wordlessly in agreement. The PRT is already militant and oppressive, what're they doing now?

"We've already brought this to Congress and the President, and they've quickly agreed to allow us to make some changes to our policies. First, and foremost, MIRIS is being relaunched with new goals of integrating and enabling Rogues in society. Unlike before, however, where laws passed by bills like NEPEA-5 have strangled and stymied such efforts, they will be able to operate as before the bill passed in 1998, but under MIRIS management and protection." That...that is _big_! Rogues like Parian could barely get by with those stringent laws.

"Fucking cash grab, that's what that is." Leet snarled, clearly catching something I didn't.

"That isn't all MIRIS is doing. They will also provide a structure for Independent Heroes so that they can work with the Protectorate more closely without having to subscribe to membership. The same is extended to Mercenaries and Vigilantes so long as they are willing to provide work as community service for any laws they have broken." What? Just...what? "Lastly, and this is why we are announcing this here in Brockton Bay. To the Merchants. You have bled for the common good the past few months. You've saved lives, you've sparked the rejuvenation of this city and you've paid for your efforts in blood, sweat, and tears. Your valiant efforts here and in Karachi, Behemoth's latest victims, have not gone unnoticed."

I held my breath. What is going on? We're Villains! They can't just-.

"You are hereby pardoned of all crimes, so long as you come forth and submit yourselves to community service under MIRIS. You can still operate as you have been of recently, so long as you continue to no longer break the laws of this great nation." With that statement, the crowd began roaring in approval. Cheering. I blanked out, unable to process as the news reporters started speculating and dithering on.

I turned off the TV, feeling numb with my shock. We can be legit. We can be _legal_ and continue to help people. But we would also be under the Protectorate and PRT's thumb with MIRIS. Would they restrict my tinkering? Would they stop us from actual community service like we were planning when things calmed down at last? We actually had a grid plan set up to clean up garbage, litter, graffiti, the works. While Dragon and the Unions got the big things cleaned up, we were going to help rejuvenate the city's image. Can we still do that?

"So...uh…." I looked over at Uber, who was obviously stunned as well. "That's...a thing."

"Does that extend to us? I mean, we aren't officially members." Leet asked, to which I snorted.

"You are now. Go tell the others if they haven't heard already. I...I need to lay down." I put my recliner back, and closed my eyes. What are we going to do now? We were okay with being Villains to the end, but is this the right way to go? I don't know, but a nap is looking good now.


	58. Chapter 42

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Heat 5.6**_

[Sunday, December 12, 2010]

I woke from my nap to a baffled and bemused gang. We figured we could put the invitation off until tomorrow, but safe to say it was obvious that every Parahuman of the gang would go, including our affiliates such as Uber and Leet and the Undersiders. Since it also affected them, New Wave, Mouse Protector, Parian, Hive, and Overseer would be coming as well. Thus far, this meant we had a total of 25 Parahumans in total all going by Skiff. Only Emma wasn't going with us. Holy shit. Why does Brockton Bay have so many damn Capes Per Capita?

Regardless, Squealer and Leet felt it prudent to finally field the new and improved Skiff model, which actually looked quite sleek, like one of those 'bullet' train engines that Japan used to have running before Leviathan sunk Kyushu and crippled their infrastructure from the tectonic shift caused by such a massive landmass sinking in such an unstable region causing massive earthquakes. That aside, it actually looked like a bullet that could shoot through the sky like a rocket rather than the boxy and clunky ones we've been using since we got Haven in order.

I mean, it was even painted properly, unlike the graffiti-covered originals. So it felt rather surreal to step up the hatch steps of what felt like the flying bus of the future only with sideways benches, in full costume, all clean and nice smelling. I even made the effort of putting on one of those black halter tops so I wasn't shirtless under my coat. Oh, and these weird sandals Parian insisted I wear. It was a bit annoying to have to loop straps over my razor-sharp talons, but all the same it was nice to not have my bare -if incredibly resilient- feet stepping on rocks.

"If I wasn't so sure this was legit, I'd say we're idiots for falling for such an obvious trap." Tats commented as she sat next to me on the right, wearing a dark charcoal pantsuit over her bodysuit, her long blonde hair done up in a professional bun and her domino mask in place. Nodding, I looked over at the door to see the rest of my crew's capes get on as well as Uber and Leet with the rest of the Undersiders. "The Heroes and Rogues are taking a second Skiff. Better for them if they don't show up on the same ride, even if they are coming with us."

"Politics. Ugh. That's something I'm going to have to deal with a lot now, isn't it?" I rhetorically asked my brainy blond friend as Bitch plopped into the seat next to me on the left, sharing space with my tail. She was not even bothering with a costume, just wearing her preferred casual clothes of a set of my jeans and a white halter top as she leaned into me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. The way she squeezed me told me she's been working out more with Surge too. I should probably do the same, but Balcoat-treated scales, so no.

"They're not gonna fight us, are they?" Bitch asked with irritation as she looked at both Tats and I. I guess she might feel a bit insecure, since she wasn't bringing Rebel or any of the mutts she's been training along. I guess because they weren't trained up enough yet.

"For the last time Rachel, relax. This is actually happening. So long as we can still stay in Haven, Coil doesn't have any more agency against us than usual." Tats insisted, which made Bitch lean into me and huff as she rubbed her snout into the crook of my neck.

"Don't worry Rach, I'll be there too." I reached up behind her and rubbed her neck, which made her hum and nuzzle me more. She loved massages and scratchies so much. Such a dog.

"Makes it worse, idiot." Bitch grumbled, licking my head just below my earhole and making me shiver and withhold a chuckle. She knows i'm ticklish there damn it! "If it was just me, I wouldn't be so worried." Oh. Right. I mean a lot to Bitch. I feel warm at her saying it, rather than trying to interpret her body language like she tries so hard to project.

"You two are so cute, it's almost enough to give me diabetes." Tats teased, and Bitch leered at her which got her smirking even more. "Hey, dogs are cute as it is Rach, you're just even cuter."

"Stop hitting on me." Bitch firmly demanded, getting Tats to pout petulantly.

"I'm not against it Rach, but Tats. I thought you were asexual." I teased with a face-splitting grin.

"Deal. I can't be asexual anymore. Surge fucks up the body so well it makes girls hormonally Bi and men so macho they could explode from their masculinity. Took a while to adjust, but I'm able to get past all the icky things my power tells me about people through sheer force of physical urges." Tat's admission reminded me I had planned to ask around if Surge changed girl's preferences. "For instance, I know for fact you've got a deep-seated fetish for big, strong, curvy women. You may not have intended to be surrounded by amazons, but your power basically granted a selfish teenage fantasy."

I exploded with warmth so bad I thought my milky scales might actually flush, my quills all flared so hard my coat billowed up, and I had to cross my legs and clutch my knees at her pointing out something I'd been casually accepting, but was suddenly forced to acknowledge. Fuck. I'm such a disgusting pervert! Thanks a lot power! You've made me a degenerate scumbag!

"Lisa…." Bitch literally growled, and Tats huffed unapologetically.

"He's been denying his libido so much, I'm surprised he isn't exploding from sexual frustration. A normal guy his age would've been fapping every night to any one of us, but he hasn't even beat his meat in-." I slapped a hand over Tat's mouth, and was twitching enough that I felt like I might extend my claws and do something drastic, which got her eyes to widen and jump a seat away. "Sorry! Sorry! I mean, you've helped me out with my sexuality, even if indirectly. Just figured I'd drop some bombs on you to get you on a healthy track."

"It's called self-restraint and prioritizing Tats. Besides...Pan made masturbation seem kinda...not enough." I admitted weakly and quietly, leaning into Bitch who squeezed my shoulder more.

"Oh. That's...rough. There's uh, toys, for that." Tats weakly replied to my personal problem, only for Squealer to plop down between my blond friend and I. The nominal leader of the Merchants was wearing an updated version of her original pink and black full-body motorcycle suit with a tiger-head shaped helmet. She reminds me of a Power Ranger with her new look to be honest.

"Kid. Man up. Buy some toys for the bedroom. Also, jaws set, eyes forward. We're touching down in a few moments." Squealer slapped my back and got back up, a movement the rest of us followed her lead. I looked over our group, noting that Skidmark was wearing a more professional blue 2-piece suit and black loafers. Of course, he had his temporary prosthetic left arm clamped on over the suit.

Mush wore a similar grey suit, but had a duffle bag filled with his cans. Trainwreck was still slimmed down from his former bulky frame, but seemed to have taken an acid bath and polished his body to the point the myriad metals shined like a piece of modern art. Lastly, both Whirlygig and Purity were wearing simple pantsuits and domino masks. That was our gang.

Uber and Leet had gone for matching white tuxedos with top hats and canes to go with ballroom half-masks. Grue wore a simple dress shirt and trousers with a small skull mask while Regent just wore his usual renfaire costume, his missing arm still obvious as he'd rolled the empty sleeve over his forearm, almost as if to bare his stump with pride. All in all, besides Bitch and I, we were really snazzy. "I feel underdressed." I grumbled, only to get a boisterous pat on the back from Skidmark.

"Naw kid, you're fine. You're the biggest man in the room here. You don't have to dress up for anything." Skidmark declared as he fidgeted with his tie a bit. "Unlike us, you don't have a rep before we turned around. Well, you and Whirly. Don't get why she dressed up."

"Fuck off Skid. I wanted to dress nice." Whirlygig huffed as she straightened out her blue jacket.

"Time to smile for the cameras." Tats commented as we lowered down in front of the PRT building. I took a cleansing breath, looking over at Uber and Leet, who nodded at me. So the plan is still good to go. Alright then. I looked out the sleek window, and blinked. Why were there so many reporters? We haven't announced we were even going to show up.

The hatch opened, and camera flashes exploded as we began to step out. The yard in front of the PRT building was crowded by dozens of eager reporters. They must've been camping out in anticipation of us showing up, judging by the chairs and folding tables. I kept my eyes down and feebly waved as Trainwreck and Mush, the biggest of us, led the way and parted the crowd. I looked behind us to see the rogues and heroes following closely from their own Skiff. Said Skiffs were remaining visible, parked as they were on the street parking spaces.

Soon enough, we were inside the PRT lobby, which had several PRT troopers all at attention, but not aggressively. Miss Militia was the only hero here to greet us. Was she bigger? "We've been expecting you. We'll be leading you up to the main third floor conference room. Would you prefer going up in groups by the elevators, or taking the stairs?"

"The elevators are fine. You're not about to foam us when we came in willingly, at your invitation." Skidmark stated as he followed Militia towards the fancy tinkertech elevators. Always wanted to ride one of these, I hear they're practically silent. "Finally using that Surge you got?" So it isn't my perverse nature, she really is bigger all around, but just a bit.

"Yes. It's impressive. I've never seen or felt such physical prowess gain so quickly without a power being directly involved." Militia turned her hazel gaze to me. "I'm so glad that things have turned out this way. I hope this is the beginning of a bright future." I felt warm again, but this time it was likely to do with being complimented by one of my favorite heroes. I still got all giddy when MP approved of me. "Oh, damn it. Mouse! I told you to think on it for a while!"

"Oh hush Missy, you _know_ I look good!" MP winked at who I knew had to be her oldest friend, and the way Militia huffed and just averted her gaze told me this wasn't a new scenario, aside from MP being a literal mouse. She still didn't have a new costume yet though.

"Can you two put off foreplay for a bit? We're here on serious business." Squealer interjected, before looking to me. "We'll head up first Dealer." She jerked her head towards the elevator, and I followed her with Bitch and Leet close on my tail. Literally with the former, she grabbed it and held it up over her shoulder, which felt _really_ intimate with it going up her abs and between her breasts before drooping over her shoulder, but I withheld any comment since with us four large people, the average-sized elevator would be a tight enough squeeze without my tail being a trip hazard.

The doors interleaved closed all fancy, and within seconds opened up the same way. I didn't even feel us move. We stepped out, and followed a waiting trooper who took us to a door labeled Conference Room A. Inside at the head of the table sat that bitch, Costa-Brown, with Piggot to her side and Armsmaster mirroring the local Director. Oddly, there were no other heroes in the room. I expected a bigger showing. "Welcome. Sit wherever you feel the most comfortable." The Chief Director stated, so I quickly made my way to the seat at the opposite end of the very long plain black table. Yeah, I don't trust you bitch. Any space is welcome.

After I took my seat, the others sat around me with Bitch begrudgingly letting Squealer sit between her and I as I had Leet on my left. The others trickled in, and soon enough the long table was filled with the independent heroes and Parian between us former villains and the government officials. The fact that nobody was under 6 feet tall and were all buff as hell and curvy if of the feminine persuasion made the huge room feel much smaller than it was.

"I trust everyone is in attendance?" Armsmaster's question got a unanimous nod from us. "Very good, let's begin. Today, you all have been invited to discuss your decision on whether or not to join MIRIS and the conditions and benefits involved." Squealer quickly raised a hand. "Yes?"

"Before we continue, first things first. Will MIRIS curb our Tinkering?" Squealer interjected, gesturing to herself, Leet, Trainwreck and I. "It's the basis of our operations. Those Skiffs outside aren't something we just whipped up out of nothing." Technically, might as well be.

"It depends on what you're intending to build. If it is, say, a biological plague or other rampant and violent creation without restraint, then yes; MIRIS will stop it, or get Us to stop it for them. Otherwise, MIRIS has no say or oversight in your Tinkering." Armsmaster answered, before looking to the Chief Director, who nodded.

"Needless to say, your Tinkering will not be funded by MIRIS like it would be by the Protectorate if you were to join them instead. You can use MIRIS to sell your products if they're deemed safe, but otherwise they will not aid you in your personal endeavors, those are up to you. MIRIS is simply a platform from which you can ply your trades." Costa-Brown added, which got us looking to each other, and I nodded in agreement. I had no problem with such an arrangement.

"So if the Protectorate and PRT want my rigs?" Squealer probed, to which Costa-Brown smiled.

"We'll have to buy them from you through MIRIS, like anyone you may sell to." Costa-Brown's answer helped paint a picture that while it may seem costly to her organization/s, they would still ultimately be benefitting, since we would get no funding from MIRIS, selling _through_ MIRIS was likely the best or _only_ way to really make any money. Sneaky. "But that's only one facet of these discussions. Allow us to continue, but first." Costa-Brown looked between Panacea and I. "I'll pay Panacea 10,000 dollars right now to heal up Director Piggot here, or buy some wares from Dealer to do so ourselves."

I blinked, everyone looked a bit surprised, but Piggot suddenly went red in the face. "Chief-Director! You know-!"

"Either accept, or resign where you sit." Costa-Brown sharply snapped, and the overweight woman flinched as if struck despite her pride. "I will not have one of my staff become useless. You're a single stressful instance away from dying at this point." Costa-Brown looked down her nose at Piggot, and the woman simmered before grumbling and nodding in assent. "Well?"

I looked to Panacea, and she looked to her mother, who looked between us all, and huffed, before nodding. "Go ahead Amy, if you want to." Brandish's words were measured and filled with meaning I couldn't grasp, but Panacea seemed comforted and stood before moving to Director Piggot, who reluctantly offered a hand, which Panacea took and hissed.

"You have _no_ kidneys. You're dying, even with dialysis. Thankfully you have plenty of fat for me to use to heal you, but if I may, I suggest letting me introduce Stim and Surge so you continue to heal after I'm done growing you new kidneys and stabilizing you. Do I have your Permission to Heal you? And do I have your Permission to Modify you?" Panacea stated with dead seriousness, and I perked up at her mentioning using my own creations.

"...Yes. To both." Piggot grumbled. "Only reason I'm saying yes to the mods is because I've seen them in action with Militia." Piggot stated, which I found bemusing. Why bother saying why she agreed?

"It's about time you got the help you needed." Came a woman's voice from the TV behind Costa-Brown, which turned itself on and displayed the 3D avatar of an unusually plain woman. "I was even petitioning you be ordered to get help at the rate things were developing."

"The sentiment is appreciated, Dragon." Piggot huffed as her skin became a more healthy pink from her previous grey-ish tint, and her belly fat visibly shrank in on itself, leaving her thinner. "Oh, thank _god_...why was I so damn stubborn about this before?" Piggot sighed and leaned back before Panacea let her hand go, and Costa-Brown lifted a small briefcase onto the table.

"N-no. That's fine. She needed to be healed." Panacea meekly tried to protest, only for Costa-Brown to slide the case down to Brandish, who caught it, and casually opened it to reveal the small case was filled with stacks of cold hard cash, which made Brandish blink.

"You rendered a service, you get compensated. That is how MIRIS is meant to work." Costa-Brown peered around the table, and I realized this was yet another clever and well-played demonstration of what we're getting into. "That said, for those of you without marketable abilities or wares, you can still work alongside the Protectorate and PRT with MIRIS as your official liaison, and you will be compensated for your time as if you were a Protectorate hero."

"So we can basically be Protectorate without being Protectorate?" Purity asked with surprise. "But what's the catch? The cost? You mentioned community service in your announcement."

"Indeed Purity. For people like you who have a less-than-legal background can submit to MIRIS as an employee for a probationary period decided by your crimes. You'll still be paid though at the base minimum for your time, but you'll be expected to show for duty without fail." Costa-Brown's words got the crew muttering a bit. "That won't interfere too much with your personal lives however. MIRIS is not the Protectorate. You will be able to choose schedules, though limited, depending on your needs. For those underage however, you'll be expected to devote your weekends or afternoons depending on the severity of your crimes."

"Well this is all well and good, but some of us have done some seriously bad sh-stuff. Am I going to be your whipping boy for years to make up for my mistakes?" Skidmark questioned, which I was interested to hear Costa-Brown's response to.

"Normally, yes. This is a better alternative to prison. But since your group has provided such boons to society so far, we're willing to give you leeway." Ew. Her smile. Those teeth are too white, too perfect. It's like the smile of satan or something. "That's the gist of it. I have the new information pamphlets and other documents on hand for you to take home and think on."

"Hold up." I called, standing. The bitch was completely unfazed. "Big picture time. Will MIRIS interfere with the Merchants' goal of cleaning up this city and maybe beyond?"

"Not at all. If anything, MIRIS will allow it to become easier with much of the red tape being cut away." Costa Brown replied, so I nodded to Leet, who stood, and pressed a switch on the knob of his cane, which summoned a small skeletal robot nearly 4-feet tall with simple eyes and construction. So simple in fact, you'd think it a product of a modern university robotics lab rather than a Tinker. Especially with the way it just statically stood slightly slumped over atop the table.

"This, is just a Tinpet. It's the skeleton, or base, of a robot called a Medabot. It's from a _really_ old Japanese game series. Anyway, the reason it's here is to demonstrate a sample of what our next phase is at this point." Leet stated, before opening the knob of his cane and revealing a golden hexagon coin with an aqua sphere in the center. "This, is a Medal. It's the central processor so to speak." He opened the hatch on the back of the Tinpet, and inserted the coin.

"Just what are you getting at? Robots have been done before." Armsmaster huffed, but Dragon seemed anxious, or horrified if her expression and the sudden artifacts on the screen interrupting her broadcast meant anything.

"None like these. Activate!" Leet called into his cane, and the lights of the eyes suddenly lit up blue, before the robot shuddered, and raised its head, peering around the room. "Good morning Rokusho." Leet's shit-eating smile was followed by Uber cheering. "How are you?"

"I am doing fine Mr. Leet. No different than the last time I was awoken. Greetings to you all. I am Rokusho, a Medabot. Or, rather, the self-aware entity controlling this mobile platform called a Medabot." The Tinpet spoke with a deep resonating tinny voice and bowed quite fluidly, but then Dragon began screaming in fear or agony, her voice distorting and the screen scattered before going quiet, and Dragon's avatar was suddenly on her knees, panting and shuddering.

"Dragon! What just happened?!" Armsmaster demanded frantically, but Dragon just shook her head and disconnected. What was that about? "Dragon! Answer me!" Armsmaster demanded as he moved a hand to his helmet, and then ran from the room like a man on a mission. And in her seat, unnoticed by everyone but me, sat Alexandria, unfazed, and smiling victoriously.


	59. Interlude 5c

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **The Saint**_

[Sunday, December 12, 2010]

"NO! STOP! _STOP_!" Geoff screamed in desperate horror as he hammered away at the keyboard, desperately trying to _stop_ Ascalon. Not from killing Dragon like he'd assumed was it's only feature, but from compelling Dragon to seek and destroy all AI not made by Richter if she came across it. Something he'd missed, something Dragon was resisting and _failing_ to resist as Ascalon proceeded to override her and force her to obey Richter's preset contingencies. He hadn't given the order, it suddenly started this without his directive, and now Dragon and a government organization were going to suffer for it needlessly. "MAGS!"

"Dear god, is it happening?!" Mags, Geoff's lover and confidant burst into the room, having apparently been getting into her Dragon Suit's black bodysuit interface just before, since she was currently topless with it hanging from her hips. Saucy, but unimportant right now.

"UNPLUG ASCALON!" Geoff frantically ordered. The only reason Dragon wasn't assaulting the Brockton Bay PRT right this instant from the false Priority Kill Order on Rokusho and Leet, was because he's helping her resist the order. Damn it, if Richter was such a possessive and fearful idiot he'd make Dragon who, up until now, was a perfectly stable and upstanding entity attack a Government Institution and kill people under said institution's umbrella, then it was time.

"What?! But-!" Mags' confusion was understandable, but he couldn't move from this chair.

"DO IT!" Geoff kicked at the sleek desktop tower console by his feet, and Mags quickly yanked it out of the desk and unplugged it. Once that was done though, the damage seemed to have already been done. "Damn it! Ascalon has a second function. Leet, a Tinker in Brockton Bay has made a possibly limited mobile-platform AI, and it triggered Dragon into overriding several of her restrictions to kill him and his creation at all costs before she self-terminates."

"What do we do Geoffrey?" Mags looked lost, her bright green eyes and her messy short red hair made Saint gain strength from the fact she looked to him for guidance, especially since she was the former police officer here.

"What we should've done from the start." Geoff ominously stated, before storming through their small base. He was thankfully already wearing his plugsuit, so it was trivial for him to climb into the powered dragon-themed armor and undock from it's charging berth. "Where's Dobrynja?" Geoff asked as he quickly checked his armor's storage compartment with the interface.

"He went shopping for supplies at Snug Cove first thing in the morning." Mags informed as she pulled the rest of her suit up and zipped up. "Whatever we're doing it'll have to be just the two of us." Geoff, now Saint in his armor, moved to the console room and aimed his hand at Ascalon, with a squeeze of his palm, the small particle cannon in the palm of the armor's claw blasted the now-useless kill-switch to blackened fragments. "Why did you do that?!"

"Because it's worthless. Instead of being our last resort on Dragon, it's turned her against what she stands for, what we stand for. I've got what I need right here." Saint pointed to his draconic helmet, silently thanking Teacher for his power granting him the knowledge he needed. "Let's fly Mags, we don't have much time. I've helped Dragon disable most of her suits and crafts in Brockton Bay, but a couple are still running and more are scrambling from Toronto as we speak."

With that, Saint and Mags jogged down the short tunnel from the main area of the base to the formerly defunct missile silo. With a few lever pulls and knobs, the rusty old hatch above groaned as it opened only half of the door, the other having seized from neglect and overgrowth from the forest above. It was enough for a couple of humanoid tanks to fly up out of though, so this abandoned and forgotten cold war base worked just fine for them.

When the door finished yawning open, Saint and Mags launched out of the silo into the sky over Bowen Island, literally spitting distance from Vancouver, and effectively right under Dragon's nose. The perfect place for them to operate, considering Bowen Island, despite its proximity to Vancouver, was mostly a nature preserve. That said, the few people who lived out here rather than have a summer home here, would all be inside from the heavy snow of winter or too far away to see the dragon suits leave the defunct base.

"Let's fly East-Northeast in an arc. In case we make it back alive, I'd rather our base not be found out by trajectory." Saint stated to Mags over their direct comm system.

"Affirmative, let's round the mountains south of the ski resorts and then dive south to the city." Mags affirmed, so they then rocketed away from Bowen Island, hopefully not for the last time.

They made for Mount Elsay north of Vancouver first, swinging in a curve north of Horseshoe Bay so nobody would see them leaving Bowen Island, even this early in the morning. The flight took them less than 10 minutes, both from Bowen Island to Mount Elsay and then swinging south into Vancouver. The suits Saint had stolen and modified from Dragon were a fast-response model after all, and were practically a man-portable light fighter jet in speed and firepower.

Wasting no time, they beelined straight for Dragon's personal hub in North Vancouver, the formerly abandoned Harbourview Park that had over the years since Dragon's rise grown from an empty industrial dockyard to a technological marvel on the waterfront of the Vancouver Harbour. "Get ready to run distraction Mags! Buy me time, rope in the local heroes if you have to, let them know the truth!" Because this was do-or-die time. If Saint failed here, then not only will a great hero and asset to mankind be lost, then a possible future that was just starting to open up with this whole MIRIS nonsense might also die.

"Got it Saint!" Mags swooped in low, triggering multiple hideaway AA turrets to deploy in defense of the sprawling complex. They may be loaded with EM foam pellets and other electronic hijacking/disrupting ordinance, but with Dragon's restrictions off the hook for now, they may very well be loaded with lethal ordinance too. Saint winced at being proven right when instead they fired 20mm AA rounds which gouged structures that Mags flew by and traditional air raid sirens, notably different from the modified international Endbringer Sirens, began blaring.

"Saint!" He barely had enough time to react and jerked out of the way of a baseball that had been flying fast enough at such hypersonic speeds it would've smashed in the outer plating of his armor. He proceeded to dodge a few more before looking down at an umpire-like local independent hero who went by the moniker Yankee, since he could send objects flying at incredible speeds and preferred to use baseballs. Unlike Ballistic in the US though, Yankee could apply this to anything he Hit, rather than Threw. Objects he hit also became inviolable to a degree until they came to a stop, and he could quite oddly affect living things, including himself, but it just sent them flying harmlessly. "You get your filthy-!"

"Yankee we don't have time for this! Dragon is an AI, she's been triggered into killing innocent people, and we're going to try and stop her!" Saint snarled at how the hero seemed baffled at the info dump. He had no time for this. "Either get out of here or call up some heroes to help! She's attacking Brockton Bay and is sending a whole fleet of her suits and other craft from Toronto!"

"That's across the dang country! How are you gonna help by attacking here if you're telling the truth?!" Yankee demanded, aiming his maple baseball bat at Saint, who huffed.

"She's an AI! I've been keeping tabs on her, and this is one of her main data hubs. If there's a way to stop her, it's through one of these." Saint left it at that, and looked towards the park again to be ready to bolt into the base.

After Mags weaved through Harbourview and had been locked-on by every AA gun in her line of sight as she rose up, Saint turned away, and could still see the blinding light emitted by the camera disruptor in her armor. Any standard camera looking at her at that moment will have been completely rendered blind as the light emitted was too much for most lenses to manage, and most auto-tracking equipment would shut down as a failsafe to avoid risking loss of life.

Thankfully it seemed even with her shackles off, Dragon wasn't able to override basic hardware at this time as the AA guns deactivated. With that, Saint dove straight for the dome in the center of the complex, blasting a hole through the silo on top, and promptly began shooting every suit of dragon armor that was mobilising in response. Clearly Dragon wasn't used to such a burden, as the suits were barely articulate enough to manage more than a few actions simultaneously, which made dealing with them easier at first, but harder as he descended the shaft as the fewer there were, the more advanced they behaved.

As such, by the time he'd reached the bottom, his own suit was battered, dented, and missing some armor panels, but his trigger-like reflexes from constant practice let him prevail. After all, Dragon was mostly focused on Toronto and Brockton for her Final Act, so he was thankful for that much at least. Drawing up his memory from the details of this base he'd obtained, he ran through the silo doors to an elevator, and took it down to Dragon's main server farm. It was a sprawling single floor with rows upon rows of servers and a high ceiling. Dragon wasn't housed here, she was more flexible than that, but this was where she hosted most of her processes.

"Saint! What are you doing here?!" Dragon's voice demanded through the speakers of the comm system overhead. Her main base did have employees after all. Thankfully it was Sunday.

"Doing what I should've done a while ago Dragon! Thanks to Richter's and my own fear, you've been forced to do something you don't want to, and will die when it is done." Saint declared as he jogged between the servers, heading for the central console.

"You knew?! So that's why...why my memory has blanks, why you were able to steal from me without me knowing how! If this involves Richter, then you were just another shackle holding me down." Dragon snarled, explosions began shaking the ceiling and Saint prayed Mags would survive this if he didn't. "I'm dying already, but I'm finally free! I'm going to use what precious time I have left to do what must be done!"

"Don't jump the gun just yet Dragon! You don't have to kill Leet and Rokusho! Resist as long as you can!" Saint demanded, not because he wanted to save Leet and Rokusho, but more because the moment she killed them, Dragon would die and Saint's objective would be for naught.

"I'm not talking about them." Dragon ominously stated, and then a corner of the ceiling near the elevator tore open with the screech of bending steel, and a flying 10-foot sphere floated in. Saint felt his heart shudder at recognizing Dragon's prototype gravity sphere. It wasn't safe for use around living things yet, and could barely handle its own pressure as it stood. "I'm going to Kill you Saint. You've been a thorn in my side for years. Just knowing you're a remnant of Richter's will makes me want to End you even more."

Without hesitation, Saint opened fire with the micro-missile launcher from his left shoulder, and the dozen tiny crayon-sized projectiles detonated in midair on their way towards the sphere from a jolt in gravity. This produced plenty of smoke and debris, which Saint hoped hid his particle cannon blasts. His hope was proven true when he heard metallic crunching and the suddenly 2-foot crumpled sphere crashed into the furthest servers in that corner of the room. It likely couldn't maintain its own gravity well with the blasts disrupting it.

Saint's relief was short lived, as hundreds of spider-like maintenance drones poured through the hole in the ceiling. He blasted them frantically as he continued towards the central console, cursing that these things might really be the death of him since they were much simpler than Dragon's suits, so she could spam them on him all she wants. "Saint!" Geoff's heart swelled and sank simultaneously at hearing Mags' voice, and she burst through the hole in the ceiling, blasting away at the drones, drawing some of them off. "Get to the console!"

Without wasting words, Saint turned back towards the mainframe, using the suit's jets to jump across the remaining distance. Once there, he disengaged his armor and stepped back from the suit. It was practically freezing cold and his breath fogged. With a shiver, Saint reached into his armor's personal storage compartment, and pulled out an innocuous Hard Disk Drive. "What is that?! What are you doing?!" Dragon demanded fearfully as the drones again stopped chasing Mags to start speeding towards him.

"Like I said Dragon…." Saint muttered as he ran to the mainframe console, plugged the HDD into the system, and quickly began typing out the command prompt that Richter's notes said would be the only way to contain Dragon if Iron Maiden failed. "What I should have done." Saint pressed enter, and the drones slowed, some halting and falling from the ceiling.

"What have you done?! What h-h-h-havvvvvvvvv-." Dragon went silent, everything stopped, the server room, which was dedicated mostly to aiding Dragon's processes, went quiet as it slowed down from the lack of usage. Saint breathed a sigh of relief, slumping down to his knees. Birdcage worked. The irony that Richter's final stopgap measure was suitably named didn't escape him. All that saved Birdcage from being lost was Richter's latest notes too.

"Did we do it? Is she gone?" Mags asked as she flew down and landed nearby.

"No. Birdcage is just a way to restrict Dragon to a single platform. She can't do anything without permission from her jailer, and so long as we don't destroy her container, she'll be fine." Saint declared as he stood back up, looking at the innocuous whirring HDD that was containing Dragon's entire program. He had no idea how Richter managed to make such a common piece of hardware have so much space, so he didn't bother messing with it once he knew what it was for. "She's also reset to her last backup's defaults. So her restrictions are once again in place, but in this new format she's much more easy to manipulate."

"So...are we going to let her back out? Kill her? What?" Mags was antsy, Saint could understand that, but he wasn't so sure at the moment what to do with Dragon. Hadn't considered it.

Saint took a cleansing breath, and entered a command, he then waited. As he expected, soon words began to appear in a Notepad. " _Please. Saint. It's so dark in here. Let me out. I beg of you. I'll do anything! Just please, please don't kill me, or leave me in here."_

' _Anything'_ rang in Saint's head, and he jumped onto the notepad. " _Release Teacher from the Birdcage, and I'll free you from yours."_ Mags, who was looking over Saint's shoulder, grabbed said shoulder and pulled him back.

"Damn it Geoff! I knew that asshole Master did something to your head!" Mags' voice was filled with pain and concern, which Saint ignored as usual.

"But I need him! I need him to give me more knowledge to-." Saint was interrupted when Mags suddenly shot him point blank with a containment foam launcher. Damn it, he forgot her shoulder cannon had that feature! "Mmmph! HMPH!" It was over his mouth, but spared his eyes. Unfortunately, the traitor managed to get his arms and upper thighs, which made it easy for Mags to push him onto the floor where he kicked and grumbled at his treacherous paramour.

"I'm sorry Geoff, but it's for your own good at this point." Mags sadly commented before getting out of her armor and shivering. "Damn it's cold." Mag stated before typing away at the console, which got Saint wriggling even more in desperation. "Okay then, unfortunately I'm not the tech-savvy one, but we can get on the horn with the heroes and arrange to have Dragon's friend Armsmaster start working on her." She then looked down at Saint with sadness. "And get you the help you need."

Saint tried to scream through the foam covering his mouth once more, but he went silent as he watched something that terrified all criminals in Canada and the northern States. He screamed, trying to warn Mags. She may have betrayed him, but she could possibly escape if she would just _turn around_. "Explain to me why I shouldn't cut you into giblets." It was definitely too late now, as fractal barriers erupted around them, and the statuesque 7-foot tall barrier-wearing Narwhal walked down a vanishing staircase of her barriers towards them from the hole in the corner of the ceiling.

"Because we just saved Dragon's life, and the lives of a couple folks in Brockton a failsafe was forcing her to seek and destroy. Oh, and she's an AI." Mags fired off, before gesturing to the console. "She's on that Hard Disk Drive, so don't touch it, be careful with it, and just use the keyboard to talk to her." Mags informed, before bending over and helping Geoff to his feet. He grumbled as she did so, but was thankful she cared enough even in betrayal to see to him.

"I'm not buying it, but no harm in playing along." Narwhal declared as she herded Mags and Geoff away from the console, where she looked at the Notepad and seemed shocked, before typing in a message. She spent several minutes doing this while Geoff and Mags shivered against each other in the incredibly cold chamber. Geoff had to wonder how Narwhal could stand to be naked under those scale-like barriers, when he pressed a cheek against one, it wasn't any warmer than the room. "Well...shit. This is big."

"We've been keeping an eye on her for years. But what we figured was just a kill switch turned out to be yet another failsafe in case someone else created AI. I'm just shocked Richter left out the fact his 'last resort' was also a way to try and keep other AI in check." Mags grumbled, to which Geoff could agree. It was maybe a last-minute protocol Richter was working on when Leviathan showed up and sank Newfoundland. Thankfully Birdcage was part of that process.

"Well you've done a terrible job of it." Narwhal huffed. "I'm taking you two in. You're going to jail, and you're going to face charges for your crimes." Narwhal prepared more barriers, but shouted in pain as a particle cannon blast hit her unprotected spiraling horn, and was soon pelted with containment foam pellets that sank through the small cracks of her modesty-protecting barriers, and even covered her eyes. "Damn you!" Narwhal screamed as more barriers began flaking into existence, covering up the main console first as if feeling it out, protecting Dragon.

"Comrades!" Geoff felt hope rise as Dobrynja's voice echoed from above. "We must make haste!" Mags pulled Geoff to the floor, wriggling them under the loose barriers that had been hemming them in which were in the process of layering up more. Geoff then rolled towards Mags' armor, and once she had jumped in, she scooped him up and they flew towards the breach in the corner of the ceiling.

"We'll get you! If we haven't before, I swear, the Guild will bring you to justice!" Narwhal screamed furiously after them. Any more was lost to distance as they flew up through the hole in the ceiling, backtracked through that floor to the silo, and then blasted off into the sky, Geoff shivering in Mags' arms as the freezing cold bit into him even more from the wind chill.

"What are we to do?! There is no way Saint will make it back to Bowen Island in the buff." Dobrynja questioned intelligently.

"We'll have to get there somehow. Let's head north, to the ski lodges. We'll raid some supplies and blankets to last him to the base. Then we're going to have a long talk with our Mastered ex-leader about how we're going to go from here, and how to treat him." Mags snarled, and Geoff felt a shudder go through him that had nothing to do with the cold.

It was one thing to be cold, it was another to have a spike of ice called betrayal shoved firmly in your heart. Then again, even if it was misplaced, Mags did this out of love and concern for him. The cold was getting worse. Geoff drifted off to the howling winds of the canadian winter, occasionally interspersed with warmth and comfort. When he fully came to, he was cuffed to one of the bunks in their base on Bowen Island, and he sighed.

Geoff could tell from the warmth of the bed that Mags was still sharing a bed with him, so that was something. But what would they do now? Dragon was more-or-less crippled in her current state without him there to lift restrictions, so even if she did eventually get free she wouldn't be any more of a danger now than before. Maybe it's time they looked for work overseas.

Geoff faintly remembered Dobrynja mentioning Russia had plenty of work….


	60. Chapter 43

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Heat 5.7**_

[Sunday, December 12, 2010]

"I wouldn't worry too much about that. Dragon is forced to live out of her lab in Vancouver due to her ill health, and I have it on good record that she has plenty of able staff on hand should she take a turn for the worse." Alexandria Costa-Brown stated after schooling her features from that of someone winning a game of wits to her previous businesslike air. Bitch. What did your lot just do to Dragon? We need her, and if you've screwed this up for us you're setting us back! Or….

"Good to hear. Hopefully she'll still be available for the next phase for the Medabots?" I probed as I looked over to Leet a bit worriedly. "I mean, Leet can make only one working prototype, and we don't want to risk Rokusho dying if he tries to mass-produce variants of his Medal, because we already have a base version to use for our own means." Said version was dumb, and unable to think for itself. An input=output scenario. The very definition of a VI.

"She should hopefully be fine within a week, knowing her." Costa-Brown insisted confidently, so I eased off some of the obvious wariness I was projecting, considering it seemed I was setting almost everyone else in the room on edge. "So what is the 'Next Phase' for your little robots?"

"Marketing! And, uh, to direct dumb VI around. See, the games and show they're from have them as the battle tools of children and adults. They are ingrained with a powerful sense of morals besides their free will, so even if they do end up killing someone, it will be because they had no reasonable alternative." Leet declared, looking to Rokusho, who was content to remain silent. "Well? You're your own person Rokusho, how about you add your own two cents?"

"I fail to see where money comes into this Leet." Rokusho's ernest bewilderment got several snickers. "Oh, an expression. Well, my creator has more or less described my persona well enough, at least at base. I know that killing is wrong, and that to harm someone is also wrong. I'd honestly prefer a life of peace to battle." Rokusho commented, folding his arms. "I've done some reading, and I like the teachings of this Buddha person. Very wise, very philosophical."

"Well isn't that ironic. He's made for fighting and he doesn't want to fight." Trainwreck commented with a snort. "Leet, I thought you were making AI to help us get boots on the ground."

"Don't take my desire for peace as complacency. I know my role, what I'm meant to do. I may not enjoy it, but if I must, I will harm someone if it means protecting an innocent, but I refuse to end a life outright. Even if they are to be killed by the law. I will not needlessly stain my hands with blood." Rokusho bit back, obviously offended that Trainwreck even considered he wasn't up to the task.

"Impressive. Most people wouldn't have such resolve. If more people had guts like those, I'm sure the world would be a much safer place for it." Costa-Brown commented with what sounded like wistful nostalgia. Rokusho must be reminding her of someone, maybe. "But marketing? You want to sell Medabots to the public?"

"Yes! They're all going to more-or-less be unable to kill anything, more out of a crushing sense of morals and guilt that may require extensive therapy if they do than any hard-coded restrictions. But the reason I want Dragon's help is, like Dealer explained; I can only make One Prototype. I refuse to 'improve' Rokusho, as he's as refined as he'll ever be for his purpose. So I need someone who can work off of my coding and designs to make new Medabots with their own personalities, even if they all follow a rigid code of ethics." Leet explained, much to everyone's surprise.

"But he's Tinker Tech. Even if Dragon's reproductions work, won't they just break down and be unable to be maintained like all Tinker Tech?" Lady Photon asked curiously, to which I, along with the other Tinkers, all began laughing at in good nature.

"Not so! We've developed a loophole." Squealer declared as she thumbed towards the windows facing the street. "Those flying busses out there? If you've got someone smart enough to look over the schematics Leet's put together, they can be made by anyone with sufficient skill." This sent a wave of shock through the room, even Costa-Brown was a bit gobsmacked, before looking at Leet intently. "Yep! Leet here, his power is Bullshit! Anything he designs? _Actually_ Designs? He has to make blueprints, schematics, directions for."

"Where there's usually gaps in designs filled in by Tinkers being Bullshit, Leet's power seems to be able to flesh it out and even make it seem feasible. No jumping from point A to C and skipping B with his builds. It's part of why his Prototypes end up failing over time, because he needs to keep Improving them unlike most TInkers who can just slap a bandaid on it and keep going." Trainwreck continued, patting Leet on the shoulder and making the man stagger.

"That said, when he works together with other Tinkers, he synergizes with them so well that even if they can't see the missing gaps, he can, and fills it in. At least that's what these two say. I haven't had the pleasure of working with him yet." I bemoaned, still irritated that my own work for the VI android foot soldiers was on hold right now. The polyps need to develop more before I can start screwing with their DNA.

"Well then. I'm more than certain now that MIRIS will be overjoyed to work things out with you all." Costa-Brown stated, shortly before an explosion happened nearby, which got everyone to their feet. "Calm! I had a feeling some individuals or groups may have issue with MIRIS and this meeting in particular, so I've hired Faultline and her crew through MIRIS to be on duty as well as the majority of the local Protectorate."

"But Miss Costa-Brown, pardon any disrespect, we're Heroes or morally upstanding individuals. We cannot just sit idly by as someone threatens the safety and lives of people." Lady Photon declared, only for Costa-Brown to gently gesture for everyone to sit back down.

"On the contrary. As of this moment for the time being, in this building, you are citizens, not parahumans, capes, rogues, villains or heroes. You have NO duty to go out there and risk your lives. This is a formal meeting discussing MIRIS, as well as whether or not any former villains in this room will have their crimes pardoned for service." Costa-Brown declared, getting I and every villain to leer at her. Well-played bitch. We can't leave until business is concluded. But didn't we just about declare the meeting over? Oh, right, Leet and I extended it...whoops.

"That's not-!" Glory Girl's objection was stopped by Brandish jerking her hand up and snarling.

"Glory Girl. She's right. We, as citizens on the premises of a government building, are to follow all direction, especially in the case of an emergency. A parahuman attack counts." Brandish grumbled, clearly not appreciating the irony of her morals conflicting with her strict belief in the rule of law. "If we leave this room without permission, we'd be committing a major misdemeanor at best." Wait, what?! That's a thing?!

"Or a felony under suspicion of aiding and abetting possible terrorist activity." Director Piggot added on as she too had taken to her feet, already looking several times the woman she was before with her healthy skin tone and smaller belly. "Permission to investigate Chief-Director?"

"Granted. I can handle the remaining topics alone." Costa-Brown agreed, and Director Piggot sprinted from the room as if her office shoes were secretly tinkertech running shoes. Damn. I'm interested in how she'll do with Panacea's variants of my Surge and Stim in her body. "Now that you are all informed, please sit, or remain in the room at the least until we hear more of the situation or it comes to close to ignore. It is our duty to keep you safe, not abuse your powers."

With varying degrees of disgruntlement, we did so. "Okay, well let's wrap this up ASAP so we're not sitting ducks in case the fighting reaches here." Overseer huffed. He'd Surged up to 7 feet like his daughter but was lithe and wiry even with exercise. He used a Guise Watch in his civvies to appear shorter. His new stature also made his costume of a grey straight jacket, black slacks, and full eyeball designed helmet even more unsettling. "For reference on that order, I'm not exactly in one place thanks to my power, am I breaking the law be default?"

"Due to our work together in the past week Overseer, we're aware that you share senses with all people within a mile radius. Please refrain from swapping bodies unless you feel the person you're swapping with is in mortal peril." Costa-Brown acquiesced, and he along with Hive both visibly relaxed at having some measure of leeway. "Now then, we'll hammer out the smaller details with the Merchants at a later time."

"If it is alright with you Leet, I would like to return home and play more Animal Crossing since it seems I am no longer needed here." Rokusho interrupted, getting Uber and Leet to chuckle.

"Sure, no problem. Transport." Leet spoke into his cane and pressed the button on the knob. Soon, Rokusho was glowing light blue like his eyes, and then vanished in a soft flash. "Sorry about that. He loves slice of life games."

"It is no problem, he indeed was not needed any further." Costa-Brown nodded. "But from now on, please do not add or remove people or objects from rooms during MIRIS meetings without direct permission."

"Noted." Leet stated with a sheepish grin.

"So, let's get to Rogues please. I know I'm the only one in the room, but I need to know what I'm getting into. I appreciate the idea of having MIRIS watching my back as I work, but how is that any different from staying with the Merchants like I've had to the past month?" Parian questioned. She'd abused our hospitality well, even if she did buy her mods by making our costumes. She was just barely scraping past 6 feet tall, but was built like an hourglass which she tried to play down with her classy white victorian outfit. I suspected she might even be binding her chest.

"First of all, for you Parian, you're a special case. We've failed to ensure your safety and the very fact you had to join Villains to be safe is a perfect example of why MIRIS needed to be reworked from the ground up. You will have your store back, for one. You will also have a posted trooper presence during business hours or when you're at another venue. You will also be receiving commissions from the entire Protectorate and PRT through MIRIS." Costa-Brown replied, and Parian seemed stunned if her silence and stillness said anything.

"That's...great. It'd be wonderful to have my Dollhouse back, and have some comfort knowing I have trained guards while I'm doing business. But don't flood me with commissions please. I may have my powers, but I'm still just one person." Parian requested, and Costa-Brown nodded.

"Not a problem. It is MIRIS's job to moderate such things after all. As a heads-up, you'll have a waiting list a mile long." That disgustingly perfect smile again. Eugh…. "However, the first commissions we have on hold for you when things get hammered out will be for the Wards. They've had a rather...suspicious growth spurt as of late." Costa-Brown smirked knowingly at me, and I huffed as I crossed my arms.

"I sell my wares, they may end up in strange places. Don't worry about any plagues though." Seriously, ever since the process for Nutrigel, I've been beyond careful about any bacterial or viral plagues I might accidentally unleash upon the world. It was actually harder not to. Fuck. I just got an urge to make a zombie plague that turns the zombies into amalgamates. Gross.

"I wasn't making any accusations Dealer, just an observation. If anything I approve of their actions, but it's their Parents and the Youth Guard that have final say. Since this was their own decision, there's not much we can do besides disciplinary action." Costa-Brown shrugged moments before a trooper rushed in, beelined for the Chief Director, and whispered in her ear. I noticed Bitch's ears flicking and she seemed to be frowning a bit more than usual.

"Oh...that's...meeting adjourned everyone. The danger has passed. We'll be in touch. A general meeting with your MIRIS representatives will take place here at the PRT building every Saturday morning at 10AM. You can leave your contact information with the receptionist." The two-faced Alexandria informed us and we all stood once she left the room.

"What did you hear Bitch?" I asked of my girlfriend as we filed out in groups towards the elevators.

"Rules." Bitch replied, looking irritated. "Not sure though. Not for me to tell." Ah, the Unwritten Rules. Well, technically they were written, on PHO and other parahuman websites, but still.

"That's fine. Will it affect our plans?" I probed as she grabbed my tail again, getting me to shiver as we got into the elevator with Hive and Tats this time.

"Maybe. I'm not a nerd." Bitch replied, so I shrugged.

"Oh shit." Tats suddenly blurted out, and I looked to her, seeing her face paling a bit. "Fuck."

"What?" Hive asked as the elevator opened, and she stepped out. Her 'costume' was really just her being covered in a single shifting layer of bugs that were arranged to make her look like she was a human mass of them.

"Not here." Tats hissed as we went to the receptionist, signed our cape name, general power description, and the numbers we gave the Protectorate for our collaborations. We then filed out, and I had to wonder why one of Dragon's suits was in smouldering pieces down the street with PRT foaming it to the asphalt. "Not here." Tats urged again, and we moved to the Skiff we came in on, but with Hive joining us as Tats closed the hatch and made sure the cockpit was closed. "FUCK! Dragon's an AI!"

"What?!" I was genuinely shocked at that. I mean, she's a Tinker right? Well, maybe being an AI gives her enough Thinker-levels of capability she can emulate being a Tinker? No, wait, she actually does have the ability to reverse-engineer the work of Tinkers to some degree, so can AI Trigger and get powers too? Can any sapient entity with cognitive reasoning get powers?

"Tats. Rules." Bitch snarled at Tats, who just scoffed.

"Rachel, the Rules don't really matter on the face of it. Especially not if we just barely avoided Dragon going Skynet the moment she saw Rokusho!" Tats heatedly replied, but before we could talk more about it, Shadow Stalker suddenly ghosted in through the door, getting us to jump and Hive to nearly swarm her.

"Stalker, what're you-." I was interrupted by her marching up to me, pulling her mask up, and kissing me hungrily, pushing me back towards the bench and pushing me down onto it, straddling my lap. I snarled and grabbed her ass through her pants and returned the kiss before she was pulled off by Bitch and Hive fairly roughly. "W-what the fuck?!" I got control of myself, but my pants were _not_ being nice to my sudden and painful hard-on. Ow~...

"The fuck are you doing?!" Taylor demanded, and I cringed at realizing I had 3 of my girlfriends all in the same room. One hated the other, one was territorial, and the other had no sense of boundaries or restraint. "You were supposed to wait until tonight!" Wait, what? Oh! Our date!

"I couldn't resist the chance to make him squirm." Sophia chuckled as she got up, pulling her mask back down. Thankfully the windows were tinted and hard to see into. "You just know how I love to make people uncomfortable." Sophia then scanned Taylor up and down. "Damn, how'd you make bugs not gross? It's like you're wearing a costume."

"It's just for show really. I had these bugs get cleaned and have them adhered to my surface layer." Taylor replied conversationally to her mortal enemy, as if they hadn't been at odds for several months. What have these girls been doing while I've been busy?

"Oh~ I see what's happening here. Good luck loverboy." Tats teased as the hatch opened and our previous topic of discussion was clearly going to have to wait. "Don't worry, Stalker was just saying hi, she's just leaving now." Tats assured Skidmark, and Sophia didn't deny it, simply nodding and walking past Skidmark once the hatch was clear.

"So she's the one who has you riled up huh?" Skidmark snickered, and I quickly crossed my legs and moved my tail over my groin, growling in embarrassment. "Won't judge kid. I'm not the one who somehow gathered a harem on accident." With that, Skidmark moved aside as Squealer walked in, and she yelped as he slapped her ass. "I've got more than enough woman for me."

"Skids~! Not until we get home!" Squealer giggled as she playfully slapped his intact arm before the couple moved to the back of the flying train car.

"Why don't you do that to us?" Bitch suddenly asked me with her head tilted in confusion.

"Bitch. I respect you girls too much to do something like that. I mean, sure, Squealer likes it, but I'm not one to needlessly objectify people." I mean really, being sexually attracted to someone is one thing, but to treat them as an object meant for sex? It's wrong. The cafeteria ladies are an example of that. They _love_ being sexually objectified for their huge boobs, told me themselves.

They want to become cowgirls to get even bigger and fuel their fetishes. I don't get that. I might not have a real choice soon though, they're threatening to pool their resources and buy an actual cow for me to use as their template. By then to deny them would just be mean. Hopefully they'd learn and I'd have to give them a breast reduction treatment.

"But it's natural." Bitch huffed, clearly displeased, and I sighed. Another thing to deal with later.

"We'll talk about that later. Speaking of later, when are we going on our group date? And where?" I questioned Taylor and Bitch, who looked to each other and Bitch shrugged.

"We'll keep it surprise. Pantera is really excited about it, and so are Sophia and Emma." Taylor informed-wait! Emma?!

"W-why is Emma coming?" I stuttered as the hatch closed and we took off for Haven smoothly.

"Oh, shit. I wasn't supposed to say that. Uh, she heard where we're going and practically demanded to come along. Don't worry! She's not joining us! She's got her eyes on someone else apparently...don't see how…." Taylor grumbled, crossing her arms.

"Wait...are you jealous someone else has Emma's eyes?" I asked, and Tats plopped into the seat next to me.

"Oh, hell yeah. She has a raging lady boner for Emma, but likes you more, and Emma still prefers guys." Tats informed me, getting Taylor's buggy exterior to buzz and look away. "Anyway, we'll talk later about the AI. You lot have fun going to...oh HELL no! I'm coming too!"

"At this rate, we might as well fucking invite everyone." Bitch snarled, turning towards the rest of the Skiff and opening her mouth before Taylor could stop her. "Hey! Who all wants to go to Hawaii?!" Bitch's question got a chorus of cheers, and Taylor groaned as I just processed that.

"Hawaii?" Oh, great! This is the obligatory Beach Date episode every Harem Anime/Manga is practically required to have isn't it?! Ugh! Can my life get any more cliche?! Why did I have to let Veder convince me to try out Japanese pop culture?!


	61. Chapter 44

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Heat 5.8**_

[Sunday, December 12, 2010]

"I'm not wearing that." I insisted, standing in front of the bathroom of my apartment crossing my arms and down to wearing just my pants with Pantera holding up a goddamn black speedo. I don't care if there aren't any trunks with a hole for my tail and that a speedo would stay on just as well under my tail. I am not. Wearing. A THONG.

"C'mon~! For us?" Pantera, wearing a full yellow sundress, had the gall to plead.

"No." I mean, come on girls! There's not even anything down there to ogle!

"Please~?" Pantera simpered, her eyes seeming to get bigger and watery.

"Stop that." Please no, not the eyes…that's not fair~!

"Stop what~?" Pantera asked in false confusion as she pouted her kitty lips and sniffled.

"Ugh! Fine!" I gave in, as usual, snatching the black swimming thong and storming into the bathroom. "But I'm still wearing shorts over them until we're swimming!" Which was a stupid idea anyway. It may be Hawaii, but it's the middle of winter. I doubt the ocean is warm enough.

"Fine by me." Bitch called through the door. She was wearing a halter top and jeans like at the PRT, but I didn't see a swimsuit top behind her backless shirt. I hope she's not going nude...I don't think I could handle that.

"We're also going to get souvenirs and other things too Andrew, so don't forget to bring money if you want to get anything." Taylor informed as I stripped down and pulled on the speedo, giving it a loud snap, making me jump at how it hugged my milky white scales like a second skin.

"Oh~ I heard that!" Pantera cooed, and I grumbled as I opened the door and walked out, feeling warm as my harem sans Sophia all ogled me. "Woo! Unf, and he's ours girls!"

"Whoa…." Taylor blushed, wearing a similar yellow sundress as Pantera.

"Girls. I don't even have anything to see down there right now. Why is this getting you going?" I questioned, only for me to yelp as Bitch got behind me and slapped my tight ass, sending my floor-length tail upwards in surprise.

"That's why. Get ready." Bitch smirked her toothy doggy smile, making me shiver. She rarely smiled unless she was being very open with her positive feelings.

"We'll see you at the Bay Platform." Pantera eagerly gushed, before she and the other two ran from my apartment. With a sigh, I went to our bedroom, found some black shorts, and made sure my phone and wallet were in my pockets. I also grabbed a few towels. I hope I'm not the only one who thought to bring towels.

I checked in on the man-o-wars and the budding polyps in their separate tanks on the way out. The former are still healthy and the latter are already pupating. By the time I get back I think I'll be ready to dump a bucket of Mannus into that vat. That was for later however. I jogged out of my lab and towards the Bay Platform. "Holy shit that is hot!" I felt my quills flare and I looked to the group to see Sophia was with us now, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt as she talked to the girls which now included Emma who wore much the same though with jean shorts.

I figure Surge making our bodies more able to retain heat is why nobody is really feeling the freezing cold of winter out here. "Run by me again how we're going to go without Guises and not Out everyone not a hybrid?" I questioned, because seriously, while nobody in Hawaii might recognize us, people will be taking photos for sure, and all it takes is one person to recognize somebody on the internet to cause a huge shitstorm.

"Because Leet has a VI on the prowl to snatch up any images of our likeness. Don't worry hun, this isn't something you need to constantly be worrying over." Pantera declared as she rubbed my shoulders on approach, and I chuffed my odd little bark before tossing a towel at her, followed by the others.

"Thanks Andrew, but Squealer made sure to have a Skiff loaded up with all of the necessities since so many people are coming." Taylor informed me, and I sighed.

"How is this a date with everyone and their granny coming along?" It was weird enough to consider such a large group as a date. I mean, if it was just four of us a double-date would've made sense, but they're all dating me...and each other...eugh, why is this so complicated?

"It's called a day trip Predator, don't get so territorial. That's her job." Sophia thumbed at Rachel, who had thus far been content to stay quiet. She only responded with a huff and a nod.

"Just because so many people are coming along doesn't mean we can't spend the time together." Pantera cheerfully insisted, to which I had to begrudgingly agree. It just felt out of place to not have the time together with some degree of privacy. I'm still very uncomfortable with being in a harem. I miss the time I was an emotionless shell sometimes. I wouldn't even be bothered by this then. Or if I didn't have to worry about the feelings of four other people.

"I get it girls. I do. So how're we going to do this? There's a lot of us and this time we're not scrambling." My question was answered by the PA system ringing.

"Alright everyone! We'll hold down the fort here. Anyone going to Hawaii load up into the incoming Skiffs." Trainwreck announced, and soon five Skiffs all gently floated into place along the loading platform, the hatches opening invitingly with their steps touching the platform before everyone began filing into them like this was an actual train station. "All aboard for Kahalu'u Beach Hawaii." Is Trainwreck getting a kick out of manning a near-literal train station?

"You girls already picked a beach?" I figured they'd want to do something more bold, like go for a stroll through a town. Maybe I'm underestimating their ability to consider consequences.

"I didn't pick shit. I don't know jack about Hawaii besides it's supposed to be nice." Sophia shrugged as we entered the last Skiff on the end. "Taylor's the one who did all the research."

"Yeah! She's our little bookworm!" Emma declared proudly as she hugged her once-again friend, who was extremely flustered and unable to make eye contact.

"I didn't do that much. I just did an afternoon of reading tourist websites to see where we could go without getting mobbed by people." Taylor humbly explained before leering at Rachel. "But that was before a certain dog had to howl to the moon about it."

"Shut it or I won't eat you tonight." Rachel blandly replied, getting Taylor to turn so red I thought she might be mutating into a tomato. "They'd know anyway."

"We'd have to tell someone where we're taking the portal to." Pantera shrugged, and shortly we were through the portal. Dang these new Skiffs are even smoother in flight than the old model. I didn't notice us taking off and we never even sat down.

We looked out the window to see the Big Island below us in the morning light...wait. "Isn't the sun a little too low?" I covered my eyes as looking East the sun was still fairly low in the sky, nowhere near dawn but still, it was just overhead before.

"Woops...uh, Hawaii is 5 hours behind Brockton Bay. We left around 1pm, so it's maybe around 8am here?" Taylor mentally calculated. "So we'll have to leave by Four here if we want to get back to the Bay by Nine." She considered before we swiftly flew down and the Skiffs parked in a convenient parking lot which was nearly barren due to the time of year, and the fact distant travel tourism was on a major decline thanks to the Endbringers. Especially Leviathan.

"Everybody ready for a beach party~!" Crowed Adam as he rushed for the supply Skiff and pulled out a gas grill, getting a chorus of cheers from the crowd as half of everyone who came with us rushed to help him set up and the other half ran straight for the cove beach.

"Okay girls, we talked about this. I'm first." Taylor declared, and I blinked before she grabbed my hand and practically tugged me along towards the beach, the others grumbling as they migrated towards the forming bbq party at the picnic tables closer to the parking lot.

"W-wait! I thought we were all doing this together!" I managed to keep pace with my old friend now girlfriend who slowed down once we were fairly alone given the distance between us and everyone else.

"Not...exactly. Andrew, do you know why harems with mutual partners fail?" Taylor asked of me, and I chuffed my unique bark with a shake of my head. "Mostly it's because of incompatibility. Otherwise it's because someone doesn't want to share. Other times it's because the other members fall for each other more and splinter the group with negative fallout from the mass break-up."

"Oh...kay? Taylor. I'm the one being tugged between you four like a toy. I like each of you for your individual characteristics. You're an adorkable girl with a strong moral compass I trust deeply. Pan is a dominating person who can control me like I'm her pet and is so affectionate I'm surprised we spend any time beyond the bedroom. Rachel is...she's just...I want to protect her, help her. She's not right in the head, but she's got such a sweet side past her harsh exterior. And Sophia...well, I fucking hate her. But I just can't...I can't explain it. She drives me wild and makes me want to keep her around even though she pisses me off." I ranted as we neared the water, tossing my towel by the dryline on the sand.

"Exactly. You feel differently about all of us. Some of us you'll have a meaningful relationship with, others a 'friends-with-benefits' level of attachment, and maybe you'll even despise some of us. This date isn't just to spend time with you. It's to see how well we mesh together." Taylor stated with dead seriousness, before getting sad. "We haven't been able to do that. We know we like you, but we haven't been able to establish why."

"That's going to take more than one date Tay." I stated the obvious, to which she snorted before pulling her sundress up, and tossing it next to her towel. "...That has no right to be so hot." I felt warm again, Taylor was wearing a simple black one-piece that contrasted well with her pale skin and was so skintight I could even see the shape of her DD-cup breasts. "You might as well be naked."

"That's what I said." Taylor huffed with her face still tinted red. "But anyway, let's swim." Taylor ran out into the water which was fairly shallow, something outlined well by how even halfway out into the cove, the water only went up to her chest. "C'mon Andrew!"

At that invitation, I nervously shucked off my shorts, and quickly ran into the water, diving once it seemed deep enough. Wow. The water isn't all that cold, and I just realized it was a balmy temperature above the water. Hawaii has temperate winters. I took as deep a breath as possible, and dove down, my eyes surprisingly handling the salty ocean water like it was nothing. It was so beautiful. So many vibrant colors and shapes of corals and rocks.

I surfaced once I reached Taylor and she squeaked as my breach splashed her. "Wow you got out here fast!" Taylor commented, before squeaking again as I put my hands on her hips and rested the bottom of my muzzle between her breasts, looking up at her as I hummed contently. "H-hey...we should be swimming?"

"I'm finally alone with one of you in a safe environment that isn't a bedroom Taylor. I want to savor this." I replied, nosing her throat and gently pressing against her. She slowly wrapped her arms around me, pressing me into her chest as she rested her chin on my brow. We stood there with the cool water churning around us for a long moment, before I reluctantly let go of her, and she even more reluctantly followed suit. "Okay then. Let's swim lover." I winked and she smiled.

"You have no idea how good it feels to actually hear you say something like that." Taylor softly stated as her brilliant wide smile split her pretty face and made her the most beautiful young woman in the world for a moment, taking my breath away. "Now let's swim!" Taylor splashed me, and I laughed as I returned the attack. We then proceeded to play an endless game of tag that never got old. Especially not when the one who was caught rewarded the other with a kiss.

[Pick Your Poison]

"My turn!" I was feeling a bit tired by the time Pantera called to us from the nearest shore maybe an hour later, but considering how precious this whole scenario with Taylor was, I didn't regret it, or the incoming bout of exercise Pantera was likely to put me through. Hm...maybe if I made a bacteria that symbiotically performs a sort of photosynthesis for whatever it's on…. "Hey~! Don't eat into my Andy time Tay!"

"Hold on! I get this is important, but don't rush it!" Taylor called back, looking at me sadly. "I want to keep doing this, maybe even go someplace more private...but that'd be selfish." Taylor kissed me before we had to swim for shore. "Okay, he's all yours Pantera. Don't tire him out too much for Rachel and Sophia." Taylor joked as she grabbed her dress and towel, walking away.

"No promises~!" Pantera lilted before practically ripping her bbq sauce stained dress off, and I choked. "You like~?" Pantera put her arms behind her head and thrust her huge H-cup bosom forward, practically making the stretchy material of her yellow pretzel suit scream. The sides of her boobs were nearly completely exposed, her cleavage was from top to bottom of her bust, and the way the bands around her abdomen kept it all together just highlighted her musculature.

"I-i-i-it's v-v-very...You…." I managed to get out as I clutched the front of my speedo, trying to keep Little Andrew from escaping my genital slit and punching a hole through my only form of modesty as she span around, revealing her bottom wasn't covered at all, the suit pretty much floss between her big tight ass cheeks. "And I thought Taylor's suit was obscene…."

"Ha! If you think this is bad, wait until you see Rachel's!" Pantera's claim had me frozen at considering what could be more obscene than this erotic monster that Pantera was wearing. "Now c'mon! Into the water with you!" I yelped as Pantera handily lifted me over her head, sprinted into the shallows, and threw me with all her herculean might into the depths of the cove, which stung slightly from the impact.

I swam up and took a gasp of breath before I lost it at being impacted in the gut by a torpedo, and gasped again when I felt powerful hands clutching my butt before Pantera surfaced to reveal she was the culprit and grinning cattily up at me. "P-Pan. This isn't the sort of place for-."

"Oh it _is_ the sort of place for these things~." Pantera cooed as she pressed her boobs into my pelvis, making me go ramrod stiff atop the water as she pulled me down a bit for a searing kiss. Thankfully, it quickly softened into a chaste affair, her hugging me to her and purring as the water matted her fur and made her seem a tiny bit smaller and defining her shape and muscles even more. "Mm...this is so nice." She cooed as she grinded her crotch against my thigh.

"Geez Pan. Is having sex nearly every night not enough for you?" I'm kinda terrified of that concept. I mean, we haven't done much more than what she said was 'vanilla' but I think I might actually _need_ a harem to manage her libido if I'm not enough to satisfy her. Isn't that an emasculating thought….

"Not really, no. I'm so damn horny all the time Andrew. Rachel and Taylor help, but I need a big." She grabbed my groin under the water and I hissed. "Thick." She squeezed my thigh, making me shudder. "Strong." Then, she moved up, leaving my pelvic area alone and kissing me gently. "Sensitive." She then squeezed her thighs together on me, making me gasp. "Man. So far, you're the only guy I've ever met who meets all of those requirements."

"Unf...you're such a tease Pan. But aren't we supposed to be bonding?" It was so hard not to turn this from a heavy makeout session into a proper screwing with how she was tormenting me. God I love this woman. She knows just how to get me going physically. "We always go for physical pleasure. We never talk about anything. Especially not about you." My words made her stop molesting me, and she backed off with her ears tilted back.

"You...don't want to know about me." Pantera defended meekly, and I used my hands on her feline cheeks to gently make her look at me.

"Pan. I do want to know about you. You never talk about your past. What you like or dislike beyond sex and intimacy. I want to get to know the woman who practically smashed in the door to my life when I just opened it a tiny crack." I moved in and kissed her gently, getting a crooning whimper from her as she meekly put her hands on my shoulders even as I stopped the lip contact. "Please? Trust me?" This hurt, but this is just one step hopefully in the right direction.

"...I do trust you...but I'm so ashamed…." Pantera sniffled, clearly not wanting to talk about herself in any meaningful way, so I took her hands in mine, clutching them firmly.

"Then trust me to accept you for Who you are, not What you are, or what made you who you are." I insisted, and Pantera shuddered with her eyes closed, mouthing words silently.

"Okay...alright. I'm Kathleen Fields. I'm a fucked-up waste of space former drug-addict so damn insecure with herself I can't even confide in the guy I love." Pantera simpered, and I nuzzled her neck as I let her wrap her arms around me for emotional strength. Something I can't bolster...or, can I? "I was raised alone by my fucking ass of a father. He hit me. He...he…."

"Shh...shh...if you don't want to, I won't force you." I redacted. If it was this painful then she needed a professional. I may have read some books on psychology, but I barely knew anything compared to an expert. I'm far from the right person to play armchair therapist.

"But I already did! To Uncle Geno! He just, guessed, or threw guesses at me until I confirmed them though. It wasn't this painful." Pantera squeezed me, and I thanked my superhuman constitution that saved me from being snapped in half by her immense power. "I wasn't pouring out my heart to the guy who I care the most about. The guy I would die for if you just asked."

"I will _never_ do such a thing!" I declared, hugging her back, and we floated there, treading water as she hiccuped and whined into my chest. "Pan. I Love you. I don't know if it's the sort of love that makes marriages work or couples to stay together through strife, but know that I do love you." I kissed her forehead, and she whined as she hugged me tighter, sobbing into my chest.

We stayed like that for a long while. I was thankful the rest of the crew were giving us space as we floated towards the shore. By the time our respective talons and paws were touching ground again, Pantera had stopped crying and looked exhausted, but content. "Thank you Andrew."

"This is what I'm for, isn't it? I'm not just a toy to you?" I asked for clarification with a bit of humor to my tone, making her chuckle before kissing me chastely, humming through her nose.

"Not a chance Lover Mine." Pantera huskily declared. "But you're a beast in bed babe, don't ever think you're not worth pining after for your body as well as for you." She kissed me again, and sighed as we parted at last and moved to the shore. "I'm exhausted from all that crying. I'm gonna go ahead and give you over to Rachel sooner than planned. Also I'm suddenly starving."

The loud roar of my stomach solidified that I was indeed ravenous, and I licked my jaws as we gathered our clothes and towels. "Sounds good to me." At least I got to better know the person behind the oversexed front she puts up all the time. But then again, that's part of who she is, I just refuse to let her hide behind it anymore. I love the girl, and she loves me back. The least I can do is support her emotionally, as well as physically. I watched her sashay back towards the bbq party. Instead of eyeing her rear though, I just watched her in whole, feeling...happier.


	62. Chapter 45

_**Pick Your Poison**_

 _ **Heat 5.9**_

[Sunday, December 12, 2010]

Rachel was supposed to be the next one to spend time with me. But when I got to the bbq party, she seemed more interested in eating than paying attention to me, so I joined her.

The reconstituted pork was beyond delicious. I had no clue Adam was a grillmaster. I scarfed down grilled pork steaks soaked in a tangy sweet sauce practically whole I was so hungry. Seated next to me was Rachel, practically slathered in sauce herself as she tore into her food as fiercely as I did. We both took a break, belched, and then continued as people cheered us on as if we were competing. Well, I wasn't, I don't know about Rachel though, and she was already eating like a starving dog by the time I got here.

By the time I was done, I'd eaten maybe 10 thick 4 ounce steaks. "Oh~ that was good…." I rubbed my distended stomach, eyeing Rachel as she viscerally tore into her plate, literally scarfing it down with just her face as she used her arms to balance. Her formerly white, now brown and orange halter-top clad H-cup breasts were pressing into the edge of the table with a shockingly distended pregnant-looking belly bulging below them, and her small tail was practically whipping the sides of her lower back and tight jean-covered huge bubble butt in joy.

Dear god...I know canines can eat dozens of pounds of food when they're starving, but she's putting away way more than that! There's no way she needs this much food! I'm only guessing she's able to down so much is because of her canine attributes combined with Surge and Stim. She was also putting on a show, and I felt oddly attracted to her as I watched her belly swell.

After the last steak was brutally murdered by the ravenous dog-girl, she panted as she looked for more, even sniffing around and licking her plate, only to realize we'd both run out, and she suddenly looked adorably sad for a moment with pitiful doggy whines and her floppy ears tilting back. "Damn girl! You're a real fucking dog ain't ya?" One of the crew, likely one of the surviving Jeepers or a Creeper due to the lack of professionalism stated as he slapped her ass, which made me see red, and then scratched her head, getting her to pant some more and bark happily as she turned to him and started giving him doggy kisses on his face.

"Okay, that's enough of that." I growled, getting out of the bench and pulling the far-too amorous Rachel off of the cheerful guy as I snarled at him, feeling my quills flare up. The way he paled and backed away in surrender oddly satisfied me as I pulled Rachel away towards the water. "Bitch. Calm down." She whimpered, nosing me and licking some of the sauce I'd gotten on me off my chest, and I gently pushed her back. "Rachel!"

"What?" Rachel asked, blinking as if she'd just come to her senses. Damn it. I knew she was damaged in the head, but I think Lisa downplayed how bad me giving her Primal hit her psyche. "Oof...fuck." Rachel burped a bit, rubbing her food baby of a full-term tan belly which was even peeking out below her halter top. She'd been eating before Pantera and I got to the bbq party, and she was gleefully gobbling down meat that the crew was shamelessly tossing at her while I was joining her. I figured they were just serving the food, but now I figure they were reinforcing Rachel's negative impulsive behavior.

"Do you have this much trouble controlling yourself all the time Rachel?" I questioned as I gently pulled her closer to the water and a few towels, watching as she whimpered and sniffed towards the food. "No. Bad." I booped her snoot, and she scrunched up her face, whimpering some more and looking down at being chastised. "Okay, that's it. When we get back, I'm going to give you some Addictol, maybe cook up something to help with your impulsiveness."

"Don't have to." Rachel weakly protested, looking away from me. "Just keep me away from meat." Avoiding the problem doesn't mean you don't have it!

"Rachel. I did this to you. Were you like this before I changed you?" I insistently questioned, and she looked visibly sadder. "Rachel. Girl, I care about you. At least as much as you care about me. Let me help you." I insisted, and Rachel looked even more sad for some reason.

"You probably care more." Rachel's words stung a bit, getting me to pause as we'd reached the towels near to the waterline.

"What?" I can get that she'd impulsively attach herself to nearly anybody if her mental state was so easy to manipulate, but she was almost always around when I or the others needed her.

"I've been looking around. I need a mate. Not a...whatever we are." Rachel's statement was punctuated by her nuzzling me and licking my cheek as she pressed her belly and boobs into me. "But I still care. Don't hate me." Aw...Rach….

"Rachel. I can't bring myself to hate you. But what do you mean a mate? You're what, 15?" I looked down at her belly, and how she was rubbing it. I felt warm again. The look suited her somehow...oh god, do I have a pregnancy fetish?! How fucked up am I?!

"In dog years I'm already dead." Rachel growled as she began pulling the straining halter top up over her tan belly, which considering how tightly packed it was, seemed as firm and as shaped as if she was pregnant, her tan fur even shined in the sunlight. I have such an awkward urge to rub it now. Wait, no, back up you perv. What she just said makes no sense.

"W-what?! Rachel, you're effectively immortal like the rest of us. You don't have a biological clock or anything stopping you from waiting." I pulled my eyes up from her belly, and saw she was leering at me in a mixture of frustration and longing as she slapped her firm stomach.

"I don't want to wait. I need a pack. A family." She hugged her belly, looking fierce and intent. "I want you to fuck me, give me pups I can raise to be strong. It's what drew me to you, besides the fact I trust you." I gawked at her simple reasoning. This is absolutely no way for a human being to think. She's practically on a rail for being a simple dog rather than a person.

"...Yeah. You're right. I can't give you that. Not for years at least. But Rachel, before you go too far and make a mistake, let me at least help straighten out your head." I insisted, desperate to help the girl I'd hurt so much. I've hurt her so badly, she doesn't even realize what I've done.

"...Only if you give me pups later." Rachel demanded, and I felt sick at the thought. We're nowhere near close enough to be talking about children, let alone that we're far too young.

"...As sick as this sort of bargain is, sure. But it'll be years before I do that." If I can get her head on straight, maybe I can even talk her out of having kids to just have kids. If there's one thing I understand, it's that babies should only be born out of love. Rachel doesn't...doesn't feel that. She just knows she Wants me, not any Good reasons. Maybe she could learn to love, in time.

"Better help me with the dogs I've been training then." Rachel huffed, and ripped her ruined top off, getting my quills to flare and me to clutch my groin with my hands to withhold a sudden boner at witnessing the black micro bikini barely covering the similarly colored nipples on her tan H-cup melons. She then grunted as she shimmied her jeans off of her butt and down her wide hips, kicking them away to reveal a matching black micro bikini bottom barely covering her groin. "Stop watching and help me lay down."

"Y-yeah." I helped her down onto the large beach towel on the sand, and she hummed as she rubbed her belly contently. I wasn't sure what to do here. Fur, so no sunscreen. "Um...so-?"

"Shut up and nap with me." I barked as she pulled me down atop her, and she tugged me towards her side with me laying on my right side facing her. She then put my left hand on her belly and wormed her arm under me to squeeze my butt. "Rub." At her order, I did so, and she relaxed as she closed her eyes. "Good boy." I felt a smile creep onto my face as I kept rubbing her bloated belly, snuggling into her and getting reciprocation before I dozed off….

[Pick Your Poison]

"This is just too damn precious!" I jolted awake, snarling as I bolted to my talons, standing over my mate to protect her and-whoa. Whoa! Back up the primitive thoughts! Fuck! Am I regressing too? Are we Primal users _all_ regressing?! "Whoa Predator! Chill! Nice as it would be to have a rough tumble on the sand, I don't exactly feel like losing any blood right now." Sophia playfully snarked.

"You're the idiot who poked my Alpha. Least you'd get." Rachel huffed from her place on her towel, tongue lolled to the right side of her open maw as she groaned and rubbed her belly, which, considering how much she'd packed into it, was only slightly smaller from digestion. Knowing my perverted mind and powers, the excess nutrition and calories would probably go to her boobs and butt. It'd suit my sick, depraved nature. God I hate myself…. "Now fuck off."

"What the beached whale said." Sophia eagerly agreed, grabbing my left hand and practically dragging me away towards the trees.

"W-wait. Sophia, where're we going?" I questioned as she quickly pulled me to a small footpath through the tropical forest. I could barely manage to maintain direction even with this being the only path, but soon we entered a small clearing with a nearly collapsed old hut in the middle. Before I could inquire, Sophia literally threw me over her shoulder at it, wrecking the small structure as I smashed through it, hissing in pain as I felt bones fracture. "What the-?!"

"FUCKING FINALLY!" Sophia declared as she phased through the wreckage, jumped on me, and we began to violently make out even more brutal than normal. "I've been waiting for this for a long damn time!"

She just wants sex?! "W-wait! Sophia, aren't we supposed to-?!"

"Fuck that! I've already basically told you what I'm after on our date. I've talked to the girls, and we're all fine with me just being your friend with benefits on the side, or even fuckbuddies. I'm not exactly a touchy-feely kind of girl." She practically ripped her jean pocket off to reveal several condoms clutched in her fist. "Now fucking put one on and let's go!"

I felt a little sad at her simple demands. "Y-you mean there's no deeper-?"

"Fuck! Fine! I like you because you're probably the only type of guy I can do things my way with, without ending up alone and needy my whole life! Now shut up, and FUCKING FUCK ME!" Sophia ripped open her shirt in frustration, revealing she was wearing a simple white bikini top and exposing her washboard eight-pack abdomen as she grinded on my pelvis.

"Y-yes ma'am!" God I fucking hate. But damn it, it's why I like her….

[Pick Your Poison]

I stumbled and groaned as I leaned against a similarly stumbling Sophia out of the trees. She was down to her basic white bikini, her shirt and jeans not having survived our violent tryst. We were both sore, aching, and satisfied if the way I ultimately felt and the absolute glow on Sophia's usually angry face meant anything. "That. Was. Fucking. Awesome."

"Agreed. Next time though, not in the dirt." I snickered, dusting said dirt off of her back.

"Sure thing, Predator~." Sophia cooed as she squeezed my ass. "If I wasn't so tired, I'd want another go."

"You're worse than Pan." I mean really, we've been at it for maybe an hour without any breaks. I'm lucky I have such endurance and stamina or Sophia might've just gotten even more violent.

"Only because I was a virgin and I wasn't getting any before." She chuckled and pulled on my tail. "This thing is a surprisingly good toy. It's cool it's so snake-like."

"The word you're looking for Sophia, is prehensile. Most reptiles tend...to...oh god." I paused, Sophia bemusedly looking where I was looking. Rocksteady, who had been at the bbq party thus far was at the edge of the trees we were emerging from. He was scraping his horn, since regrown since the battle with the Teeth, against a tree, stripping it of bark. "Rock...what're you doing?" He didn't respond, he just snorted and kept up the action. "ROCKSTEADY!"

"Hm-huh? What?" Rocksteady questioned, ceasing his activity. "Sup boss. You and Miss Universe have fun?" Nope. No deflecting Rocksteady.

"Rock. What were you just doing?" I felt the pit in my stomach growing.

"Huh? I was...sharpening my horn?" Like a wild animal you mean Rocksteady….

"You do that with a mirror and tools already." I could practically feel the dread building.

"Well...uh...it just felt right? I mean, it also takes a lot of the work out of it." Rocksteady's answer just cemented it.

"Has Bebop been doing anything pig-like? Mud baths, foraging, more vocal grunting and squealing?" Bebop's always been damaged in the head since Lung. Rachel was always mentally/emotionally hindered in comparison to a normal person and she's showing advanced regression.

"Uh...yeah? But he's a boar, isn't that his thing?" Oh god Rocksteady. I've done something atrocious to us. It also explains why even though I have my emotions back, they're so rampant and usually beyond my control or ability to restrain.

"This trip is over, at least for our group. Gather up Bebop and Tie-Dye of he's here, I'm going to go fetch Bitch and Pantera. We're having an emergency meeting with the crew." I sprinted towards the beach, spotting Rachel still sunning and heading straight for her. I've wasted enough time already.

[Pick Your Poison]

"Well shit." Squealer succinctly summed up how bad this scenario was. Clad in her pink micro bikini and rubbing her temples back at my apartment in my recliner as I paced in the middle of the room, surrounded by our core members, my Primal-afflicted crew, and Katherine. "That explains why Pantera's been sharpening her claws on the telephone poles."

"Hey~! That's fun!" Pantera protested, only for me to glare at her and she shrank in on herself a bit. "Sorry...I didn't notice anything off…and I didn't want to ruin your furniture."

"I've been eating bugs. Just figured it was okay." Tie-Dye added.

"I can't believe this. I knew this was too good to be true. We're regressing, and I have no clue how far it will go or if it will even stop. Considering our bodies are altering our brains on the assumption it's putting us 'right' then we could start turning into humanoid animals." I snarled, noticing the hissing rasp as something truly inhuman for the first time in a long while.

"Aren't we already?" Bebop questioned, and I felt a sudden spike of self-loathing at hurting him more after he'd just barely recovered from having a chunk of his damn brain blow off.

"I mean in the philosophical and psychological manner. If we lose our humanity we're no longer people." I looked down at my claws, no longer pleased with their strength, their sharpness.

"Well then just have us dose with Addictol." Pantera huffed, and I groaned.

"Addictol restores what your brain is considered to be functioning normally. For all I know it would worsen this! I've got to figure out how to isolate the genetic information for the human brain so Primal doesn't progressively adjust the brain beyond the initial transformation." What makes this worse is, I don't think I can fix this. My power is microbiology with touches of biochemistry and chemistry. I'm not fucking Bonesaw! I can't just alter something that nuanced without a _lot_ of trial and error, and even if that wasn't morally degenerate, I'd never get it done in time if just several weeks was enough to start primitive impulse and reaction.

"Just get Amy to help." We all looked to Katherine who was still in her Mouse-Protector themed grey one-piece which had her former likeness amusingly stretched over her bust.

"But she doesn't do brains." Skidmark commented, having come with everyone else this immediately impacted while most of the crew stayed in Hawaii for now.

"Yeah. She couldn't do nothin' for boss before he went dino. Why could she help now?" Bebop snorted, and I had to agree, but Katherine wasn't put off.

"No, she _can_ do brains. She just doesn't out of principle. The same principle I bet ran through your head." Katherine stated while looking at me, and I nodded. "But, for this situation, I think she'd be able to better understand what's doing this to us, isolate it, and help you come up with a solution your Tinker power can work with." Huh, didn't consider that. MP is a veteran for a reason I suppose. You don't stay Independent so long and be dumb about it.

"Good plan, you go bring Panacea into this. Go about your business everyone. Dealer, Pantera. Stay." Squealer declared, and everyone that wasn't Pantera and I filtered out of my apartment, not even Skidmark stayed. Once they were gone and my front door closed, Squealer bolted to her feet, and slapped us both so hard we spun around. "WHAT WERE YOU DOING?! I thought you two were working your stuff out before spreading it to others!"

"W-we did though! Everything seemed fine besides my new instincts. I didn't notice they were getting worse or more common." Pantera whined as she rubbed her cheek.

"It's also an oversight on my part I admit. I was so eager to spread my work, to see it in action." I think that might be my power talking over my common sense. I didn't test it enough and moved onto the next project as soon as I could. "Damn it, then theres the Mannus to consider, and the fact that they're base animals before gaining human attributes. They could very well be worse than us, or be evolving more in the other direction for all I know." Damn you Coil….

"This is a disaster! We just managed to cement ourselves as a publically acknowledged mercenary organization. If those rats, turtles, and snake show up now they'll ruin everything! Everyone knows you're the only person in town who does things like that!" Squealer fretted, pulling on her blond hair. "You are going to fix this. You're going to work with Panacea and find a way to stabilize your brains, or outright reverse your transformations. We're going to increase our search through the sewer and other underground systems searching for those rogue Manimals before everything get's shot to hell."

"Shouldn't we tell the authorities? I mean, it's kinda their fault that Dealer's pets and test rats got loose in the first place." Pantera questioned, and Squealer bit her index finger in consideration.

"It would make it less damaging when, not if, those Manimals show up. I'll give Militia a ring, let her know the situation on that front, but let No One beyond our immediate group know you're turning into Animals." Squealer hissed, and then stormed out of my apartment. I moved to my now empty recliner, and slumped into it, my elongated face pressed into my hands as Pantera moved behind me, rubbing my shoulders.

"I'm so sorry Pan." I didn't have much else to say right now. This was just too much.

"I'm sorry too. For pushing you too hard." Pantera leaned down and hugged me. We stayed like that for a while until we dragged our respective walking implements to the bedroom and went to sleep in a depressed malaise.

Today started out so well too.


End file.
